


State of Mind

by Alia_Aenor



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Mutants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alia_Aenor/pseuds/Alia_Aenor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton knew Phil Coulson inside and out, well enough not be surprised that Coulson had faced an alien trickster god wannabe with an experimental weapon- the fact that the man had died doing so had left him breathless. But can their long relationship, their bond, help Coulson in the aftermath of the battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Someone has to clean up this mess

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, This is my first time posting here. I've had this idea stuck in my head since the show first aired, and have decided to share it before the whole thing become AU (though having mutants makes it AU I suppose).
> 
> Enjoy

Agent Clint Barton looked up from his food as a junior agent walked into the restaurant. The young agent came to an uncertain stop in front of the gathered Avengers. 

“Agent Barton, sir?” 

Barton swung his legs onto the floor from where they had been resting on Natasha’s chair, standing he approached the agent.

“Symes?” Barton rolled his shoulders and stood up straight, suddenly looking like he hadn’t just fought a battle after not sleeping for three days.

“You are the highest ranking agent on site, sir.” Hawkeye just nodded, taking the tablet the agent was holding out to him. He placed his thumb on the small scanner on one side, smiling just a little as it sprung to life with his thumbprint- asking for his code, which he put in. He scanned the information, starting to formulate a plan for the clean-up. 

Behind them Natasha raised an eyebrow in query and Stark managed to rally some energy to ask. “Him, seriously?”

Barton huffed, not looking up from the tablet as he tapped out some orders and requisitioned equipment and more crew with a quiet efficiency that came from experience. Glancing at Symes he asked. “Sitwell?”

“On his way, sir.” Was the answer, after which the young agent went back to looking at Stark in confusion at his question.

“Good. Comm?” The agent simply handed Barton a communication unit. Barton slipped the unit into his ear, his earlier earpiece having been good for one channel only. 

“But he…” Stark said, indicating to own his eyes. Hawkeye rolled his eyes, Symes just blinked. Stark elaborated. “Was compromised!”

Symes raised just one eyebrow with an expression Tony was beginning to think was trained into SHIELD agents. “Was. Isn’t .” The confused look was back. “You fought alongside him, now you question his orders?” 

Stark blinked, for once not quite sure. “I…I didn’t have time… It wasn’t… ” He tapered off, then pointed to himself “Freelance.” Then he pointed at Symes. “SHIELD”

Symes smiled that SHIELD standard slightly condescending, rather infuriating smile. “Exactly.”

Barton gave an actual genuine smile at that, turning towards the door, throwing over his shoulder “Gentleman, Tasha, it’s been fun.”

“Wait, since when is he the highest ranking agent.” Stark wonders aloud. Rodgers shrugs, Nat laughs, shaking her head.

“Since I was made Level Seven three years ago, Stark.” Barton mumbled as he left the schwarma place, not loud enough for the seated Avengers to hear.

He heard Stark ask. “Did you know?” To which Nat replied “Barton’s been with SHIELD a lot longer than I have Stark.” She answered vaguely, and indeed there was no reason or her not to know that he wasn’t a Level Six like herself.

He let all that- the Avengers, the hustle and bustle of the last little while slip away as he focused on the clean-up.

As they walked back to the main hub of activity, Barton started giving orders over the comm. “Unit 1, perimeter around the containment zone. Units 5 & 6, evacuate the containment zone.” As he said that he circled an area on his tablet, where the worst of the damage had been sustained, knowing it would show up on other tablets used by the other agents . “Medivac 1 & 2, with them. Leek, coordinate.” He heard the corresponding “yes, sir” from each of those units heads’ and Leek. “Dr Martin, it’s nice to see you in the field for once.” He said to SHIELD’s head of R & D though in fact he was only seeing his name on the list.

“Nice isn’t the word I would use.” Martin said.

Barton smiled at the gruff and disgruntled voice. “You never know. You might enjoy it- you get some new toys to play with.” 

“Just tell me where you want me to set up.” The older man grumbled.

“Unit 3, set up a command tent here.” Barton said, placing a cross on the tablet- next to where a playground had stood 20mins ago. “Dr Martin set up your people there, tech’s all yours. People, if it’s alien don’t touch it- unless Dr Martin or one of his people tells you to. Unit’s 2 & 4 assist Dr Martin in any way he asks. Medivac 3, triage centre here.” He noted a spot not too far from the command tent, but not to close that civilians would get underfoot. Again there were answers in his ear as those different teams set about their work.

He soon he stepped up to where the command tent was being set up. Switching his comm to mute, he shook hands with the balding man in front of him. 

“Dr Martin.”

“Agent Barton.”

Barton looked over the other man’s shoulder at the gathered men and women from R & D, smiling at the rag tag bunch of overly pale and out of place staff. “Fitz, you must be excited to try out you new bots?” 

The young man blushed and nodded, about to start talking before Martin put up a hand to stop him. 

“Don’t get him started, or we’ll never get to work.” Martin sad with a scowl, at which the young man in question blushed all the more furiously. 

“You’re all set?” Barton said to Martin, who nodded.

“Ok.” With that he turned away from the man, casting his eyes over the agents as they did the jobs assigned to them.   
Switching on his comm again he said. “Ladies and gents, let’s do Fury proud.” 

All of the over 100 agents and R & D personnel he was currently responsible responded with a hearty “yes sir”.

From the command tent he issued orders as necessary, moving units and equipment; without too many problems things settled into a good pattern and progress was better than expected, at this rate they would be done overnight. In part this was due to Barton’s effective use of the man power he had, both human and mutant. 

Just over the hour mark, the communications tech said. “Sir, I have the helicarrier on line three for you.” 

“Thank- you.” He said, before switching his comm to three. “Agent Barton.”

“Barton. Good job down there.” Came the gruff voice of the director.

“Thank you sir. Alien tech is being sent to Head Office for R & D to sort, 30% already on its way, the rest should be done by midnight. Main clean-up will be complete by sunrise.” He stated, estimating based on the current work.

“I was talking about the Avengers.” Fury huffed, though Barton heard that he was impressed in his tone.

“Of course sir.” He said, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. The tech, who was hearing the whole thing, was also smiling- while pretending he wasn’t listening.   
“Get that smile of you face agent. I ain’t got time for sentimentality. Agent Barton, Dr Lewis wants you up here, there is a patient she thinks you can help, leave Sitwell in charge there and head on up here.” 

“Yes sir.” Barton, having a good idea who that patient was, with that he switched his comm back to one. 

He motioned to Sitwell to come over. “Fury wants me back at the helicarrier. You’re in charge. Things are moving smoothly, so there shouldn’t be much you need to do. Once the main clean-up is done, you will need to set teams to finding pieces of tech that slip the net. Retrieve any and all tech; neutralize any threats.” Barton said as he took out his comm, handing it to Sitwell. 

Barton frowned slightly. “By neutralize I mean assess the danger and usefulness of any persons who pose a threat, bring them in if they could be an asset.” 

Sitwell took it, putting in the comm and then nodding his understanding and acceptance of the orders. Barton slapped him on the shoulder as he walked away, heading to one of the helicopters that would take him back to the helicarrier.


	2. The Damage Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barton goes to the Helicarrier to see Coulson.

Clint squared his shoulders and stood up straight as he stepped out of the helicopter. The only clue to the turmoil he felt as he once again stepped onto the helicarrier was the slight falter in his step as took his first steps, then even this disappeared.

He was comforted to be acknowledged with nods, a quick “sir” by others, or “Agent Barton” that showed that the agents here were as accepting of his presence as the agents on the ground. Every sign of damage led to another pang of guilt in the agent, a feeling of responsibility for his actions that no other agent seemed to think was his. 

He made his way to medical quickly, anxious to see the one person whose current state was causing most of his current distress.

Stepping through the doors to medical, Barton could feel a shift in the atmosphere. The staff there was busily working, but still took the time to look at him as he walked in and for the first time since he ‘woke up’ from Loki’s control he sees emotions on the faces other than respect, loyalty or exhaustion. Here, eyes are filled with pain and the stress of overworked medical attendants, and also pity and judgement. 

This is not peculiar; these are the reactions of medical towards any commanding officer who brings back wounded personnel and was unrelated to his recent status as ‘compromised and acting under enemy influence’. Medical tended to get quite possessive over their patients, particularly repeat visitors- which was basically all the field agents- and would show open hostility towards the person or people who endangered them, from Director Fury down. It didn’t help that the man who Barton was here to see was the twin brother of the Chief Medical Officer. 

Speaking of- the CMO appeared before him a little worse for wear herself. 

“Pippa” He said with a sad smile, relieved to see her, though still besieged by his own grief.

“Clint.” She hugged him tight, her arms going around his shoulders as she let out a sob. Clint’s arms went around her as he pulled her closer. Her fingers fisted in his shirt as she started talking, her face still leaning on his shoulder. “There is something wrong… I don’t understand… I can’t do anything… It’s not his body…something else… something I can’t fix… his wounds are mostly healed, but he is barely still alive.” He hushed her, trying to comfort her.

“I know, I can feel it, the weakness in him.” He placed a kiss on her temple, and nothing could have stopped his tears as he held his sister in law to him.

Around them all but the most essential of work stopped as those around them watched the two hold each other crying, they couldn’t hear the words, but many let their own grief show at the display of emotion from the normally stoic duo.

It was another minute until Barton kissed Pippa on the forehead once more before pulling away a little, his arms moving from her waist up so that his hands were gripping her shoulders.

“Shall we, Dr Lewis?” He said to her, indicating towards the door she had come through before.

She nodded, with a steadying breath she pulled away and led him to the room.

She paused for a second with her hand flat on the door before pushing it open. The two stepped into the room, pausing at the sight in front of them.

There lay Phil Coulson, the most respected and even feared agent in the organisation- his affable nature and quirky sense of humour were often locked behind the efficient and quietly amazing work- was lying still, pale, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and tiredness showing on his face.

His husband’s state almost brought Clint to his knees, and he grabbed the edge of the table next to him. He had known… but the sight was nothing he could have prepared himself for. 

“I felt it, him dying.” He said, voice hoarse. 

Pippa turned to him, not surprised but slightly horrified that the man had had to go through that. She had always been a bit jealous of his bond with her twin brother, but this, this she did not envy him. He went on. “Worst eight seconds of my life, it literally knocked sense into me. His pain had already been distracting me in the fight with Tasha, but that- the loss over powered me so much Loki was knocked out of me, it was like my system couldn’t cope with it all. Seeing him like this, feeling the…corrupted presence of his mind, its worse.” 

He took slow steps towards the bed and around to the right side, Pippa going up the other side. Clint ran his hand along the rail, wishing so much to reach down and touch the too still man, but unable to will himself to do so yet. Looking at Phil’s exposed chest all that was left of the hours old wound was scabbing tissue, even that Barton knew would have completely disappeared within a week. Once again he was extremely grateful for Phil’s healing ability that had saved him not just now, but in the past as well. 

“As you can see, physically he is almost fully healed. There is no physical reason for him not to be up annoying us all with his chipper smile and cheesy jokes.” Pippa said, with a wistful smile.

Clint gave his own smile. “He would demand a fresh suit and be making orders so quickly we would all forget that anything happened to him. Then say to Fury, with a smile and raised eyebrow, ‘I told you’.” 

They both turned as they heard a huff from the doorway. Barton turned towards the door, legs drawing further apart- either at attention or in a defensive position, depending on your perspective; out of the corner of his eye he saw that though Pippa didn’t move, her chin moved up defiantly. He allowed himself a small smile at that, she was her brother’s sister.

“Director.” He said.

“Agent Barton.” Fury said, with just the slightest of nods in acknowledgement. “Dr Lewis, what is wrong with my agent, as you said, he should be back up and running by now.” 

“I don’t know, sir.” She answered. “His body is recuperating well. His mind is another story. That is why I wanted Agent Barton, I think he can help.”  
“I’ve seen this man heal from brain trauma like it was a paper cut…” Fury started, only to be cut off by Barton.

“This isn’t brain trauma, his mind is still fighting off the power of the sceptre- at least that’s what I think it is. I won’t know for sure until I get a closer look.” He finished, and then tacked on a “sir”. 

“Closer than this?” Fury asked, indicating to the man lying on the bed.

Barton’s head cocked to the side. “Sir, Phil and Pippa’s mutation allows them to accelerate the bodies’ healing. Pippa’s ability extends to healing others as well as herself, but she can’t look in someone’s mind. As you know, my mutation gave me super senses- eyesight, hearing and whatnot, sense things others can’t…” 

“A door opens from both sides and all that.” Fury interrupted.

“Yeah, well I can also connect with people’s minds.” At Fury’s shocked look, and the aborted move to step back, Barton smiled. “Don’t worry, I can’t read your thoughts. I can form a link with someone, know what they are feeling, if they are hurt…die…” He turned to look at Coulson, hand falling down to the bed, next to but no touching the other’s hand. “I have been psychically linked to Phil since we became a serious ‘item’.” With this he let his thumb brush lightly against the side of Phil’s hand, the touch narrowing his senses down to the spark of the other’s mind through the link - usually he could feel it like a small spark in his mind but if he concentrated on it or touched the other he could bring it to the fore and feel what the other felt-physically and emotionally. 

Fury’s eyebrow’s rose. “So you felt Coulson dying?” He asked.

“Yeah. You didn’t really think a bump to the head could break a powerful mind link like the sceptre was capable of creating, did you?” Barton said with a smirk. At that Fury gave a somewhat amused huff.

Barton took a deep breath, closing his eyes and concentrating for a second. He strengthened the shields for the other sparks in his mind, so that they would not be affected by what he was about to do. 

He placed his hand more firmly over his husband’s, letting out a sharp breath. “Yeah that is most definitely the sceptre. It’s bleeding into him, trying to at least.” He ran his hand up the other’s arm, shuffling up the side of the bed. “He’s shielding his mind.” He said, pride seeping into his voice. His hand moved up further, cupping around his neck. Then Barton bent over a bit, bringing his other arm around, so he could place a hand either side of Coulson’s head. “Phil…” He said, a touch of amusement, more than a little fondness in his tone now. “He’s created a safe spot in his mind; shielding it- himself- against the magic of the sceptre while he fights it off. Ohh, its Tahiti. We always talked about going there.” They both had a matching postcard sitting in their lockers with a picture of Tahiti- the words ‘It’s a magical place’ written across the picturesque sky. 

Leaning down further he gave his husband a gentle kiss then pulled away entirely, hands falling to the bed before he stood up straight. He turned towards Pippa. “I should be able to get inside the shield, interact with his mind. It might take some time to get through the barrier without damaging it. My existing psi link with him makes it easier, but I’ll have to shield the connection as well.”

“You should?” Fury asked, with raised eyebrows.

Clint nodded again. “I’ve never had to do anything like this before. Professor Xavier has more experience with complicated cases like this, but I’d rather not involve him unless we really need to.”

It was Pippa who spoke next. “Clint, you’re exhausted. I’ve healed you as much as I can, but you need to sleep.”

Clint smiled at her. “I’ll sleep if you do.” His smile changed to a smirk as he saw her look at the door. 

“I have work to do.” She said, brow knitting.

“Pippa, you’re working yourself to death. You need to rest, before you’re a matching set.” Clint said, indicating to Phil.  
“Fine.” She grumbled.

“Good. I need to talk to the boys anyway.” Clint said, smiling at her again. He walked around till he was standing next to her.  
“You tricked me!” She exclaimed.

“Yes I did.” He said as he led her to the other bed in the room. He pulled back the blankets, guiding her to sit down. She yawned as she toed off her shoes, barely aware of the hands on her arms that gently pushed her down.

The hands moved away as Clint moved the blankets over her. 

“What are you…I don’t...?” She said as she puzzled why she suddenly felt so close to sleep, when thirty seconds ago she had felt like she couldn’t have slept even if she wanted to. “Bastard.” She said through another yawn. 

Clint chuckled. “Tasha hates when I do that too.” He lent down to press a kiss to her forehead as her eyes closed. “Sleep well.”

“What did you do?” Fury asked from behind him.

“I calmed her mind, pushed her closer to a natural sleep state. She was pretty wound up, would have tossed and turned for hours, this way she’ll get three hours good sleep.”

Fury looks impressed but doesn’t say anything.

Barton walks back over to Fury.

“Thank you, sir.” He says.

“For what agent?” 

“Not locking me up. Letting me fight against Loki. Letting me come back here.” Barton said. At Fury’s nod he continued. “If you’ll excuse me sir, I really do need to talk to my boys.” He settled into the comfy chair next to the bed. That always seemed to be a thing in medical units designed for extended stay, even in military hospitals and helicarriers. 

“You’re really going to do that in your sleep?” Fury asked.

“Dreamscapes are the best for talking through a link.” He said with a shrug. 

Fury huffed again, wondering why he ever thought that there was nothing left in this world that could surprise him. “Barton, others who were compromised?” He asked.

“Loki being knocked out would have been enough to release the hold he had on them. The sceptre being used to close the portal was definitely enough.” Clint said with a smile.

Fury nodded and turned to leave.

With that Barton closed his eyes, letting himself relax into sleep as he heard the Director leave the room, the door closing gently behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself- Philip's twin sister is called Philippa, Pippa for short. (Horrid I know, but what's the point of fanfic if not to have fun)
> 
> So this is my idea of how he survives, with a side of but does he come out the other side completely whole?


	3. Mine to love and care for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint talks to the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not mpreg!

Clint looked around the room he found himself in as he had reached out to the twin minds of his sons. The common room of their dorm building at school- the safest place they knew- though the colours where different in places, and Phil’s armchair from home was sitting to one side, where in the real version of this room there stood an uncomfortable wooden chair often used by the house master, as Clint knew from his own time there as house master. On the wall hung the school flag, with the words Madam Tempestua’s School for Boys and Girls- this was accurate of the real room, but the SHIELD logo on the left side and the large family portrait of Phil, Clint and the boys were not. The matching faces of twelve year olds Hayden and Hunter looked up from their chess game. They abandoned their game and ran to their father, hugging him tight. He could see their worry etched into tired faces and eyes tinged with red from crying. He had been linked to them since they were born, and though he had been able to block his links to both of them- as well as all his other ones- before Loki had taken over his mind they knew something had happened, though not what. On top of that they had themselves formed links with Phil as soon as they were able too- having developed their powers with the onset of puberty like all mutants. This meant that they too had felt their father’s momentary death and how he was now, as Phil did not have the ability to block off links. 

“Daddy!” “What happened?” “Is Dad ok?” “Is he going to get better?” “What’s wrong with him?” “Why is he in so much pain?” “Can you make him better?” “What happened?” Was the jumble of questions that tumbled out of the two boys as they clung to their father. Clint lent down and kissed them both, tears brimming in his eyes. 

Pulling back a bit without letting them go, he guided them both to the couch where he pulled them down so that they sat on either side of him. 

“There was an invasion; an alien came through a portal, took me hostage.” Clint started, voice devoid of the emotion rocking through him, though he knew they would feel it.

“That’s why you blocked us out!” Hayden said. Clint only nodded.

“Oh, you didn’t want us to feel what you were feeling.” Hunter added.

“Yes and no. What this alien did was far worse than any physical harm he could have done to me. He took over my mind.” Their horrified faces showed what they felt at that- to take over someone’s mind went against everything they had been taught since they were young- though it was not something any of them could do, he had drilled into them the importance of never entering someone’s minds without their consent. “So yes I blocked you out to protect you, not from my pain but from his influence. After that your Dad…”

“He was afraid and lost.” Hunter whispered.

“He was so scared that he’d never get you back… I’ve never felt him so scared like that before.” Hayden said, to which Clint patted his hair and kissed him on the head again. “He was so desperate.” Hayden said, his own fear at that coming through.

“Yes he was. And because he was desperate and scared, he did the only thing he could think of to try and save me- and to protect you. He faced the alien with an experimental weapon, and he managed to hurt the alien, but not before he was injured. And yes he died...”  
The boys whispered at the same time. “Eight seconds.”

Clint nodded. “And anyone else probably wouldn’t have come back, but with Dad’s healing… anyway, physically he is almost healed. But the injury is causing the thing that the alien used to take over my mind to try and get into his mind. His mind is protected while it fights against this alien thing. That’s why he feels so different… infected.” He finished.

“But will he get better?” One of the boys asked, though Clint could feel it coming from both of them.

“I’m not sure. I hope so. Aunty Pippa and I will do everything we can to help him. But I think it’s really up to him. He will have to fight it by himself. I don’t know how long that will take, or even if he will be able to.” Clint said, and only now did his own fear show in his voice. He felt the boys hands clutch at his shirt, and in turn held them closer. After a moment of just sitting there holding on to each other Clint shifted them so that he could look them both in the eyes properly.

“Don’t try and get into his mind, at least not until I know for sure that it is safe, ok?” Clint said.

The boys both nodded. Clint’s hands on their shoulders’ tightened a fraction. “Promise me!” He said.

The boys looked at each other, not used to fear in their father’s eyes, and then looked back at their father. “We promise.”

“Good.” He answered and then relaxed. After that the three moved onto other topics- projects they were doing at school, all the news from around the school, what they wanted to do for the holidays, normal family stuff. Clint played chess with them for a while, watched them play fight, shared jokes and threw things at each other. And if they were more affectionate than normal, no one said anything, and if there were longer moments of silence than they usually had, no one noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so here's the lowdown on the boys- Clint and Phil were sent undercover when young children started disappearing, the only link between them that they had all been conceived through the same fertility clinic, so they we're sent to find out the secrets of the clinic. Which, tropes being tropes, ended up being harder than it was planned and in the mean time they had to go through the process- and ended up with twin boys who where genetically part of both of them (experimental science stuff), carried by a surrogate.


	4. Tahiti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint enters into Phil's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your great comments and kudos.
> 
> Your reward is more than one chapter tonight (my time).
> 
> Enjoy.

Clint blinked slowly as he woke, wishing for a moment that he was back in the dream room with his boys, that he didn’t have to leave them, but he had work to do, and they had school. He sighed as he looked over at the unnaturally still form of his husband. The more he had thought about it the more he had realised that there was probably no way to bring Phil out of his self-induced coma. He might be able to make contact with the protected mind, but that was all. He hoped he was wrong on that account, but he did not think he was.

He glanced up at the clock and realised that he had managed to sleep for over six hours; even at the best of time that was rare. Just then the door opened to reveal a more rested Dr Lewis, two food trays in hand.

She handed one to Clint and then sat down with the other on her lap. They ate in silence; it wasn’t until Clint put his now empty tray on the nearby table that he said anything.

“Sleep well?” He asked.

She huffed a laugh. “Yes. Thank you.” She, making sure he knew she meant for helping her sleep, not just a casual answer.

He nodded. 

“How are the boys?” She asked.

“As well as can be expected, they’re tough boys. They’ll be fine.” He said with a smile, pride at his boys showing in his tone and face.  
“Good.” She said. 

“Phil would be proud of them.” Clint said as looked over at the other man, still shut off from the world as he continued his battle against evil as the rest of them got about recovering and cleaning up the mess.

Clint had hoped he would wake to see the eyes he loved so much watching him, though he had known that wasn’t going to happen- he had sensed there was no change in Phil’s condition even before he was fully conscious. He was fairly sure he would have woken instantly if there were any changes.

The longer things stayed this way, the more his heart felt heavy with worry. There were so many unknowns here; everything about this was beyond any of their experience. 

His gaze dropped down to his hands, unsure of what to or even if he could do anything.

Clint was barely aware of Pippa as she moved around the room, checking on Phil, adjusting the blanket that hadn’t moved at all since it had been laid over him. She straightened with a weary sigh.

They both knew that the if Phil was like this over a long period there was a high chance there would be physical, and probably mental repercussions. He might not come out of this whole.

After a while Clint stood up, knowing that if he didn’t do this soon, he might loose the strength- courage- to do it all.

“Your going to…” Pippa started, not quite being able to form the words. 

Clint just nodded. He drew closer to the bed and his sickly pale husband, firmly placing his hands on the rail.  
“Do you want me to stay, or go?” Pippa asked.

“Stay.” Clint said, not looking up at her. “I might need you…if something goes wrong.” Then he did look up at her. “If something does go wrong it’s best you don’t forcibly separate us, touch me gently to get my attention, but do not break the contact I have with him…unless there is no other choice.”  
At that she nodded, worry showing in her eyes.

Clint closed his, standing up that bit straighter as he concentrated. First reached out to the boys briefly, to make sure they knew not to reach out to him, and also to momentarily seek the comfort of their presence, to ground him in this world. Then he took a moment to block off all his links except the one with Phil, to protect the minds of the few others he was psychically connected to. 

That done he reached out and grabbed Phil’s hand in his own, drawing himself into Phil’s mind, protecting his mind as he did so and shielding the link. The bubble Phil had created was there, somewhat like a glowing force field that cordoned off the mind inside it. This force field blocked off Phil’s conscience mind from the link.

Clint allowed himself to latch on to the outside of the force field, make his presence known without forcing his way in. He reached towards it, putting all of his love for the other into the touch, the safety they found in each other, protectiveness and strong sense of family that had been between them for nearly fifteen years. He felt the barrier let him in, a welcome and known presence in the mind of the other.

Clint opened his eyes to a long expanse of sand, endless sea and sky in front of him. He heard a disgruntled noise behind him. 

“You’re blocking my sun.” Came a voice Clint would recognise anywhere.

“Sorry.” Was his amused reply. Clint turned to face Phil, who was lying on a lounge chair clothed in simple beach clothes- the kind that very few people actually knew Phil owned, Clint being one of them.

Clint moved to sit on the sand next to the chair.

“What are you doing here Barton?” Phil asked, eyes still closed.

Clint raised an eyebrow at that. They only used last names on the job, or teasing each other…and well…there was no teasing here, that tone was all business. 

“I’ve always liked Tahiti, sir.” Clint said, unable to leave off the sir with that formal tone.

“You’ve never been to Tahiti before Barton.” Phil said, tone wary, seeming to wonder if there was vital information missing from Barton’s file.  
“No sir, I suppose it’s more the idea of Tahiti- the perfect getaway.” Clint said with a wide smile as Phil opened his eyes for the first time.  
“Well, it is a magical place.” Phil said, looking back out at the sea, a touch of a smile visible.  
“Yes it is.” Clint responded, relaxed and content.

Phil turned back to Clint. “Your not doing a very good job of blending in, agent.” 

Clint looked down at his still uniform clad body. “There is no else here to blend in with.” Clint said, amusement filling his voice again.

Phil looked about to argue the point, but with a brief narrowing of his eyes he turned back to the sea, but not before Clint saw the look of dismissal in the other’s eyes. “Fury made a mistake putting you in the field.” 

Clint held back any reaction to those words, words he hadn’t heard in nearly twenty years from Phil. Clint had worked hard to earn the respect and trust of the man next to him, and now to have all that brought back the surface, after all they had been through together, all they had done together, it was hard for him to hear.   
“He has his reasons, he always does.” 

Phil, no- Coulson, turns back to him, again with eyebrow raised. “That’s my line.”

“Maybe something has sunk into my thick skull.” Clint said with a laugh. “Hey, here’s something else you’ve taught me- trust the system. Fury’s reasons are usually pretty good ones.”

“Usually.” Coulson responded. There again was the distrust that had been a feature of Clint’s early years with SHIELD, before Coulson had admitted that maybe Fury had been right and they had been able to become Clint and Phil to each other rather than Barton and Coulson. (Fury had done the SHIELD version of lock them in a closet- placed Clint on Coulson’s security detail for an undercover op, forcing them to live in close quarters for months, this had broken the ice- it would be another seven months before Phil would ask Clint out on a date.) After that they had been a duo to be contended with, becoming only stronger with the introduction of the Black Widow into their unit- though Barton bringing her in had nearly torn them apart.

Clint watched Coulson, who watched the sea. Coulson sighed. “Why are you here?”

Clint shrugged, trying to stay casual, not give away the sudden swirl of fear and uncertainty. “Why do you think I’m here?” He decided on.

“Fury sent you to bring me in. You’d best remind him that he placed me on Medical Leave and that us mere mortals need time to heal.” 

Clint opened his mouth to say that Phil was no mere mortal, but then realised that in the mind state there was no knowing what Phil’s reality was- he already had seen that Phil had altered or repressed some things. 

Coulson continued, having not heard a disagreement with that reason. “Barton, I’m not your SO, unit chief or the Director- there’s no need for the sir, Coulson will do fine.” 

Clint just raised an eyebrow at that, waiting for an answer.

Coulson sighed again. “Slowly. Besides being bored out of my brain, I can barely move without feeling like I’m going to split at the seam.” Coulson said, gingerly moving one arm to indicate his chest then letting it drop harshly and trying not to flinch at the pain. “If I do more than sit or lie still for five minutes I’m exhausted. In other words, I won’t be leaving her any time soon.” 

That was more of an answer Clint than had been expecting. It was not the type of answer he had been expecting, rather hoping for- Phil didn’t heal slowly like the rest of them. But then this whole thing was completely odd. What was really odd was that Phil didn’t seem to think it odd that he was taking so long to heal, that he had been put on medical leave. 

Clint felt a swell of love, pride and no small amount of heartbreak as he realised that even in this sanctuary within his mind Phil was protecting himself and those he loved from the threat he faced- by forgetting the most important things and people in his life. He had the sudden thought that if he brought up the boys now he would only be faced with bewilderment. He didn’t have the heart to find out.

Standing up he said. “Pippa sends her regards.” Clint looked down at Phil, who blinked up at him without any sign of recognition. Clint restrained a sigh of his own. He pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket, having an instinctual need to hide behind them. Putting them on he nodded. “I’ll let Fury know.”   
With that he turned and walked away, reaching with his mind toward the barrier and back to his own body.

Blinking his eyes open he felt himself sway a little as his body relaxed. Arms came around him and guided him to the chair, even as he felt reserves of energy seeping into him. He took deep breaths as he turned to Pippa. “Thank you.” 

She moved away with a smile, to give him some room. She cam back with a glass of water, which he drank greedily, not realising how thirsty he was. Looking up at the clock he realised that it had been just over two hours; time always moved differently in mindscapes. 

Pippa settled on the edge of Phil’s bed and looked at him, waiting. Once he was more settled she asked “well?”

Clint looked back at her, blinking back tears he refused to let fall. He opened his mouth to try and answer her, but nothing came out.

Her hand shot out to grab his own. “Why don’t we wait until we see Fury?” She suggested. Her hand squeezed hi, though Clint wasn’t sure if she was comforting him or herself- probably both.

Clint nodded. “Can you ask him to come here, I don’t think I can leave him.” He said, looking over at the pale figure lying still on the bed.   
Pippa nodded and got up to make the call from the phone on the wall. With that done she sat down.  
“I was worried, towards the end there.” She said, at his questioning look she continued. “Your heart rate went up, you look ready to collapse. Clint, you were crying.” She looked away from him, seeing his embarrassment. 

After that they sat in silence, waiting for the Director.


	5. Fury does care, he just doesn't show it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury gets his report, and more plans are made for Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter of the night. Hopefully the writing hasn't suffered for it. 
> 
> Enjoy.

SHIELD Director Nick Fury pushed the doors to medical open with some force; he was somewhat gratified at the startled and wary looks on the staff and patients as they turned towards him. Work stopped, men and women stood up straighter or backs on those seated stiffened, feet shuffled to a parade rest- all in acknowledgment that their commanding officer had entered the room. 

As he walked through the room some of the faces became harder, eyes took a steel edge. He was used to this protective edge of the medical staff, glad to know they cared for his people as much as he did- though most would say he didn’t care at all, out of necessity he had to bury it deep to get his job done. It was moments like this that he people in his care were not cogs in wheels to turn or pieces on a chess board- they were real people, who bled and needed to be cared for- and he was very grateful for that reminder, not that anyone would know that from the scowl currently decorating his face. 

Pushed through the doors to the private room where lay one of the few agents he had thought he would never be in this condition- the only one out of all of them almost guaranteed to live to a ripe old and die with wrinkles and white hair (if there was any left) surrounded by friends and family. 

Yet here they were- staring at a face that seemed younger than it was, softened in sleep, the mind and body buried deep in a coma that no one understood.  
The scowl softened as he saw the two seated figures on either side of the comatose one, both having fallen asleep waiting for him. Before the doors had even settled back into place behind him Barton was on his feet in a defensive position, eyes having shot open at the creak of the doors. The man breathed in and out and relaxed his pose, acknowledging the Director with a nod and sitting down again. Fury knew that if Barton hadn’t sense that it was a friend rather than foe approaching he would have been dead, or at least on the floor, before he had taken one step into the room, it was one of the many reasons Barton was his best agents.

“Report agent.” Was all he said.

Barton looked at Fury, then at Phil, Pippa and then looked back at Fury.

“Sir, he… well as you know he has shielded his mind against the lingering magic of the sceptre. The good news his mind is intact and functioning, he has a strong shield and will, in time, most probably win the struggle.” 

Pippa asked “in time?” at the same time Fury asked “and the bad news?”

Flicking his eyes to Pippa, Clint nodded slowly- knowing she would know what that meant. And she did, shown by the weary sigh and the slumping of her shoulders; Clint could see her start thinking about long-term logistics.

“The bad news sir, is that I have no idea how long it will take or in what state he will be in when he ‘wakes up’.” He paused and looked at Pippa, needing her to understand what he was saying more than the Director. “In the mindscape he seemed to have blocked off certain memories, sensitive information that he did not want compromised, consciously or unconsciously. He talked as if his body would take months to heal, he didn’t seem to be aware that he is a mutant. Sir, that makes me think on some level Phil is aware that this struggle…battle…could take months, maybe even years. Energy he doesn’t use in the struggle he is using just to stay alive. His best chance of survival is to stay in this state. Even if I could bring him out of it, I don’t think I would- he would be in too fragile a state to keep up the fight, we just have to wait it out. Also, sir, he…” 

Clint took a breath, swallowed and tried again. “He…” With another breath, he stood up and walked around so that he was sitting next Pippa on the far bed in the room. “Pippa, he treated me like he did that first couple of years.” He paused, seeing the realisation of what he was saying. “He didn’t know who you were.” With that she collapsed into his arms crying.  
Fury gave them a moment then made his presence known again. “Agent?” 

“Sir, he is repressing or blocking out memories, probably in an attempt to protect those he loves from the power he is fighting against. I have no idea if it would be effective…but the mind works in weird and wonderful ways, essentially his strongest thought when he entered this state was to protect others, so his mind did what it could to do that. I also don’t know if he would regain his full memories if…when he wakes up. Sir, once he wakes up, he could spend the rest of his life thinking he’s an only, with no family who love and care for him. Or he could have all memories back, just as if none of this happened.” Pippa gave another sob into Clint shoulder, fingers flexing where there where clenched in his t-shirt. 

Fury let his surprise show at this, looking sadly over at Coulson, then back at the crying duo. He had never once seen Clint Coulson-Barton in such a state, but to have his partner so close yet out of his reach was certainly enough to man to tears. They seemed to be calming down a bit.

“Dr, what does he need?” He asked. Pippa blinked, trying to clear her head.

“Dr Lewis?” Fury repeated, trying to be patient.

“Umm, full medical monitoring, fluids, nutrients, regular testing to make sure he’s healthy and everything keeps function…oh G-d, inconti…” She stopped as Fury put one hand up, grimace showing for all to see.

“Ok. I’ll leave the details up to you. No expense will be spared. Anything he needs.” Fury turned to look Clint full on. “Barton in this state he is very vulnerable, if the Council found out…”

Clint frowned. “They can never know.”

“No.” Fury said bluntly. “As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, and your children- he is dead, and he must remain dead.”

Clint nodded. “Ok.” Another nod. “He can’t stay here. Where will he go?”

“There is a promising small private clinic in California that I am quietly looking into. Incidentally, it’s not far from Madam Tepestua’s School. You will both be given six months bereavement leave, officially.” Fury said.

“Unofficially, Mr Barric will return to teaching full time, having recently placed his sick partner in the nearby private clinic so that their children can see them both as often as possible. His very supportive sister has also moved to the area to help care for the sick partner and family.” Barton said nodding. 

Gavin Barric was one of his pre SHIELD identities that had never made it onto any record, and as far as they knew no one had ever made the link between Clint Barton and Gavin Barric or Barric and Hawkeye. Barric was a language, history and sports teacher that had spent a lot of time travelling and teaching in various schools around the world in schools that were mutant friendly, including Madam Tempestua’s, in fact he was still known to take relief work there when he could. Hayden and Hunter Barric (the Coulson- Barton twins had mysteriously never been added to either of their father’s files) had been students there since they were old enough to go.

Fury nodded in satisfaction, he could leave the details of Phil’s care in their capable hands, in full confidence that he have the best and very discreet care. With that out of the way, he turned to more urgent business.

“Barton, Stark and Rogers are making very vocal pleas to see you. It’s getting rather annoying. They don’t trust that I haven’t locked you in some padded cell to be pocked and prodded by doctors.” Fury almost growled.

“I’ll call Nat, sir. Get her to talk them down.” He said, knowing Nat would want to hear from him anyway.

Fury gave a noncommittal sound. “Arraignments have been made to send Loki and the Tessaract back to Asgard tomorrow. I believe the rest of the Avengers intend on going.” He added.

“I’ll make an appearance, let them all see I’m still in one piece.” Barton said, with just a bit of a smirk.

“Good.” Fury stated. “I’ll need a verbal report of those arrangement as soon as possible agent.”  
Barton nodded.

Fury turned on his heels and made as grand an exit as he had made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is a Welsh name meaning hawk of the battle, or white hawk.
> 
> Barric is an English name meaning grain farm, I used it because Barton come from the Old English for barley enclosure.


	6. And so we wait.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's family surrounds him as he continues his battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the final chapter, there is more!

One month after the Chitauri attack

 

Clint walked into the high security medical clinic that looked more like it was a day spa than a small hospital for specifically rich chronically and terminally ill patients. He was glad he wasn’t flipping the bill for this. 

He clipped the ID onto his shirt after having swiped into the building and quickly looked around the spacious, quiet and posh entry room. He walked over to the balcony and looked down to the ground floor, where mobile patients milled about in comfortable clothes, taking advantage of the open space with reading nooks, small garden areas with benches for spending time with family and friends, activity rooms with quiet activity for the slightly more robust patients and the cafeteria which served food that suited a five star restaurant than a hospital. Further to the right he could see the spa area where patients could get massages, manicures and pedicures, haircuts and other such beauty routines that Clint had never understood. All this was closely supervised by hovering nurses, never more than a stumble away.

“It is rather Dollhouse, isn’t?” Said a familiar voice behind him.

With a huff he turned to the voice. “Would anyone here get that reference?”

“Probably not.” Was the amused answer. 

“It’s a good thing I already know it’s not owned by a secret organisation bent on world domination.” He said with a smile. “Pippa.” He greeted, reaching forward to git her a peck on her cheek. Here she was known as Dr Pippa Peterson.

“Gavin.” She responded with smile and returned the peck. Settling back she put one hand back into the pocket of her white coat, indicating the way with the other.  
Talking quietly they moved towards Phil’s room.

Mr Philip Barric was printed on the door they went through.

The spacious room had a bed in the middle- the hospital kind with the ends that moved up or down at the push of a button- side tables on either side, with enough space around the bed for people to move around it. On these some of Phil’s Captain America and other collectibles and been placed. There were large thick (bullet proof) windows on one side that looked out on the large gardens. Standing in the corner was a valet stand with Phil’s favourite suit; well actually it was Clint’s favourite suit on Phil, which naturally made it Phil’s favourite suit. With was draped one of Phil’s ties, all ready and waiting for when he woke up. 

Opposite the bed one of Phil’s framed posters was hanging on the wall between two doors. The single white door led to an elegant en-suite bathroom, though this was more for visitors like Clint. Through the open double doors could be seen what was called the wet room, it was slightly larger than the main room, boasting a small pool, and a smaller room with clear glass walls in which Clint could see a waist high marble bench, with towels and scrubbers and bottles and sitting on a shelf on the wall, a bucket sitting under a tap.

“That looks like a Turkish bath.” Or part of one at least. Clint said. This was the second time he had been here since they had moved Phil in three days earlier, but the last time he had been a bit more preoccupied with setting up the room to pay too much attention to the second room.  
“It is.” Pippa said as she did something to the computer at the foot of the bed, which held Phil’s chart. Satisfied she used the touch screen to go back to the man page displaying Phil’s vitals.

“And the pool?” He asked.

“Floating therapy. Epson salts in the water keeps the body afloat and invigorates the skin; also helps relieve some of the stress on the body from being in bed all day.” She said as she fussed with the cords and IVs.

“Huh.” Clint said as he waited. He had learnt over the month to let Pippa fuss for a few minutes before he approached the bed. Even though he couldn’t actively interact with Phil’s mind, he could still feel the other man through the psychic link, and so was already comforted to Phil was safe and comfortable, at ease- as much as he could be.

Letting her do that he walked over to the valet stand, pulling a tie out of his pocket he swapped it with the one on the stand, having decided to change it. It would turn into a bit of a thing, bringing a new tie every time he came in.

Seeing out of the corner of his eye that she had moved around to the other side of the bed and had calmed down a bit, he moved over to the bed and lent down to place a quick kiss on his husband’s lips.

They stood there and talked for a while, both holding one his hands. After a while Pippa left to do work, leaving Clint there. He sat down in the chair beside the bed, reading aloud as he held Phil’s hand. In the past when he had been in medical after an injury of some sort he often woke to Phil’s voice reading, while holding his hand.

Three months later

 

This afternoon the whole family was here. Clint came two or three time a week, bringing the boys at least once a week. Pippa of course worked here, so she saw her every day. And for the first time her daughter Darcy was here, finally back from Norway.

Today was special. Today was Phil’s birthday. The boys were being raucous, determined to celebrate. As loud as they dared after the nurse had come and shushed them. The played around, putting of a bit of a show for the family. Clint tilted the top of the bed up to a seated position, gently maneuverer Phil over to the side a bit and was sitting up next to him, head leaning on the other’s shoulders. He laughed at the play in all the right places, it was the story of the daring rescue of Captain America by the Princess Darcy, slayer of aliens gods and wise stargazer. Clint couldn’t help but wander what Steve would think of the story. Closing his eyes he could image they were in their lounge room propped up on the sofa as they watched the boys together, Phil would turn to him and whisper that same question in his ear.

Opening his eyes he laughed as Princess Darcy stood on Caps shield as he climbed up the rope tied to it. He fell to the ground in an exhausted heap as fought off countless foes with her trusty sword in one hand and taser in the other. 

From the chair beside him Darcy said that of course she could save the world and Captain America at the same time, someone had to be around to wear the tights.  
He laughed at that, glad to have the family gathered around on this day, but at the same time wishing that Phil could see this, would squeeze his hand to pull him out of his thoughts as he would have at home. 

Five months after the Chitauri attack

 

Clint tried- desperately- not to think as he gave his husband a full body massage, one of the jobs he did once a week.  
The not thinking was becoming harder and harder. But really, it had been five months.  
It was days like this that he was a lot more likely to spend some extra time in the shower when he got home. 

Six months…

 

Clint was reading to Phil again, thumb running up and down the others arm gently as he read.

He looked up as the door opened. He raised an eyebrow as Fury came through the door, but didn’t stand. 

“Agent Barton.” 

“Director Fury.” Clint indicated to one of the other chairs in the room. Fury brought it closer and sat down.

“I’m assembling a new team. A covert combat team trained to fight combatants with unusual powers.” Fury said, right down to business.

“Mutants.” Clint responded.

“Yes. And I want you to lead it.” Fury stated.

“The Avengers?” Clint asked. 

“Still scattered to the four ends of the earth, and beyond.” Fury said with a smile. “You would still be ‘assembled’ with the Avengers when necessary, but you are a lot more use to me in a more quiet position. It’s a field command, and your one of my best strategists.”

Clint seemed to have no reaction to that, though the hand on the bed squeezed Phil’s. 

“I was also impressed with your command in New York. You showed that you knew the men and women there, and how to best utilise their unique skills. That’s what I need in the field at the moment. Of course arrangements can be made for you to visit family as often as possible.” Fury went on.

“What’s it called?” Clint asked.

Fury tried to look confused, but Clint just smirked, with his classroom honed ‘come on Is that the best you can do’ expression.

“Howling commandos.” Fury said, looking out the window.

Clint laughed at this. “You really are a sentimentalist aren’t you, under the eye patch and long coat. Even if a had an actual choice, I could never have turned that down.” 

Fury grunted at that, handing a file to Clint. “You have a week to tell me who you want on the team.”

He stood up and returned the chair to its place. He stood at the end of the bed momentarily, hands twitching like he wanted to reach out and shake the man awake.  
“Thank you.” Clint said. Fury was torn out of his thoughts by the sound, looking at the agent he raised and enquiring eyebrow.

“For giving time to spend with him. For the assignment. This.” He said, waving a hand to indicate the room. “Everything.”

Fury just nodded and left.

 

14 months and three week after the attack (late July 2013)

 

The nurse who came to check on Phil and turn down the light for the night startled when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Turning her head she settled as she saw a hand twitch- it was normal in comatose patients, though she had never seen this one do it.

Then she saw the whole arm move, and the head tilted to the side with a groan.\

She pressed the button for the doctor and staff swarmed in, though everyone seemed to expect him to be dying not waking up.

It was Peterson who settled down the other staff and got everything set up to ease him back to a wakeful state.

He was woozy and barely conscious for the next three days, which was to be expected. The long suffering husband that all the staff clucked over was there the day after it happened, though no one knew who had called him. Before he was fully aware and awake he was moved out of the facility, and all his stuff gone. Apparently it was to do with him thinking he was somewhere else and panicking every time he looked around the room.

Two weeks after Phil woke up

 

“Mr Coulson, I’m Dr Craigson. I’ll be asking you some questions, to assess your mental wellbeing.” The standing in front of Phil said, putting his briefcase down on the table.

“If I see any ink blots, I am walking out of here.” Phil said with a half smile.

“I assure Mr Coulson, no ink blots.” The doctor said he pulled his notepad down on the table, clicked his pen and looked at Phil.

“Shall we start?” The doctor asked.

That got another half smile out of Phil.

The next an hour was filled with question after question. Name, date of birth, year, president, where were you born, favourite colour (purple, where before it had always been red- though Phil didn’t seem to know that), then more open questions about how he was injured, how he felt since the injury. Then things got interesting.  
“Tell me about your recovery.” The Dr asked.  
Phil just blink.  
“It was in Tahiti, wasn’t it.” The doctor pressed.

“Yes. It’s a magical place.” Phil said.

Behind the two way mirror, Clint’s eyebrows raised. In the room the doctor’s pen stopped briefly, before writing that down. Phil had said the same thing the day before to another doctor.

“What can you tell me about your time there?”

“Not much, I was on some pretty strong medications, I think.” Phil said, that small smile back.

“And have you seen your family at all since you were back?” 

“I don’t have any family. My parents died quite some years ago.”

In the other room Clint’s hand tightened on the table he was leaning on, knuckles going white with stress. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Clint turned to look at the Director briefly.

The doctor pulled a picture of Pippa out of his briefcase. Placing it on the table he pushed in front of Phil.  
“Do you recognise this woman?” He asked.

“No, I…” Phil went quiet and still, eyes going vacant. 

The doctor watched, head tilted to one side. Then he reached forward.

He placed his hand on Phil’s arm gently. “Phil. Phil.” After a moment Phil blinked and looked at the doctor as if he was the one acting strangely.  
The doctor pulled back his arm, bring the photo back as well.

“I’m sorry what was the question?” Phil asked.

“Don’t worry, we will come back to that later.” The doctor said. He asked a few more question and then told Phil that they were done for now.

Phil got up and shook his hand, leaving the room. The doctor put his things away and came around to the other room.

“Well that was interesting.” He said as he walked in. 

“Is he compromised?” Director Fury asked.

“No…No…His reactions to some of those questions is very similar to patients I have seen who have been hypnotised. In fact that ties in with what Agent Barton has told me of his condition the last year or so. Staying in that state for that amount of time… would definitely be enough for the altered memories to be the ones that he retains. Of course it’s not like we have any similar cases to judge against, so really we can only guess.” The doctor said, frowning. “Keeping in mind the information Agent Barton has given us, it makes sense that the memory gaps and altered memories are contained to his private life.” 

The doctor sighed. “I’m sorry Agent Barton…but…”

Clint cut in. “He can never know.” He had already known this, but to hear someone else say it, made it that bit more real.”

“No, he can not know.”

Clint nodded, turning to the Director.

“The can never know that what he think’s is real, about his life, his family is not true. That knowledge will tear him apart. His mind might not survive that. It would be too much to handle.” Clint told him.

“The shock could literally kill him.” The doctor added.

Fury nodded, shocked. 

“He will start to have questions, Nick. He can never find those answers. Block him out of his own files, alter what you can’t block from him. Please Nick.” His voice took on a desperation Fury had never heard before. 

Fury nodded solemnly, determined to do what he could.

Clint gave a hollow dry laugh. “To death do us part.” He rasped. “I’m going… I’m going to the range.” He said, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking, and the tears that escaped. 

The doctor flinched at the words. Clint left quickly.

Fury looked to the doctor for answers. 

“He can never see his husband again, maybe on a professional level, but even that is risky. Neither can his sister or children.” The doctor said, fiddling with his wedding ring as he said it. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I might go tuck my kids into bed, if I get home early enough I might even get to harass them into cleaning their teeth.” The doctor said with a sad smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now breath slowly, and if necessary find the tissues or hug someone (preferably someone you know, and doesn't mind being hugged.
> 
> Don't worry there is a happy ending to come.


	7. The Howling Commandos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Clint Barton is about to loose his team's empath- the extremely intelligent weapons engineer, Leo Fitz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full of OCs. Hope you don't mind so much

Agent Clint Barton walked through the camp. It was made up of a group of buildings and open training areas connected via covered walkways. This was there home base, they lived and trained here whenever not deployed on a mission. When they were deployed they lived on the C-17, painted to look like a commercial plane though without any identifying markers. It was spacious enough for the 15 of them, having a combination of storage, working, living and sleeping areas. At least at camp they had individual bedrooms rather than bunkrooms. 

After nine months the Howling Commandos worked well together, knew each other’s skills, habits. And in between missions they were having fun, getting better at what they do. But the honeymoon was over. Fury had sent reassignment orders for one of his men. 

He sighed as he approached the lab. Through the glass doors he could hear animated discussion. Standing on the steps he could see Fitz walking around the lab arms flying around as he talked about whatever he was working on. As he walked around the table he stopped to quickly kiss the person sitting at the table, he then moved on to place the instrument he was holding on the bench. As Fitz turned to go back around the table he spotted Barton at the door, he nodded to indicate that it was safe to come then went back to work.

Barton pushed the door open, stopping just inside to stay out of the way of the still moving scientist before he addressed them both.  
“Agent Fitz, Dr Fitz.” He said, nodding to each in turn. Agent Alexei Fitz raised an eyebrow at the formal greeting- not something used much in camp, his husband- Dr Leo Fitz, kept on working without acknowledging the newcomer. Barton knew him enough to know he was in the middle of… whatever he was doing, and concentrating on that- he very likely hadn’t heard the greeting.

Fitz threw down his pen with a huff and turned around. He looked stunned that there was a third person there. “Of sir. Perfect timing…I have just finished this.” He turned and grabbed something of the shelf, standing at the end of the table to show off his latest invention. “Well, I say finished, but really, this is the first stage of development. The gun itself is finished.” He said as he held out something that looked half way between a sniper rifle and something out of a sy-fy movie. 

“Completely made out of plastic components, not even the tiniest bit of metal at all. I may have to make further adjustments, depending on how it shoots, but basically- done! Oh but then the next phase, that’s the tricky bit. The bullets are tranquilisers, well basically the same as your traditional tranqs, but these break up under the subcutaneous tissue, they don’t leave a mark, nothing, nada, zip! At least that’s the theory, haven’t quite got there yet. Need a bit more time to figure out the formula, make it safe, actually non lethal, not poisonous, well now it would be lethal, but with a little tweaking I can make in not lethal, a proper non lethal weapon that doesn’t leave any trace- just…”

As all this was going on an amused Alexei was trying to get his attention. “Hon… Leo…Lev…Fitz, honey…Lyovushka.” At this last one the excited scientist actually stopped, blinked and looked at the seated man. The Russian diminutive of his name was one they usually reserved for when they were alone. 

“It doesn’t make for you to call me Fitz.” Was all he said, bewildered. Even if they couldn’t have seen it on his face he was projecting it clearly.

“It’s your name!” The other said.

“It’s yours too.” He said with a small smile.

“It was yours first.” Alexei said.

“Yes it was.” Leo said, smile now full of satisfaction. He reached over and kissed his husband again, just a quick peck on the lips. 

Alexei returned it, then pulled back before anything else happened. “Agent Barton is here about something a serious than your new tranq gun.”

Fitz stood back, looking at the amused Barton then back at Alexei. Looking down at the rifle he said. “I call it the Night-Night Gun.”

Barton huffed a laugh. Alexei smiled affectionately and responded. “Of course you do.”

Leo looked affronted at the patronising tone and turned back to Barton, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Barton sighed and wondered what the best way to do this.

“Oh, it’s that bad?” Fitz asked, walking to stand next to his husband. He lay a hand on his shoulder, using him as a base for emotions.

Barton tried to reign in his emotions, not wanting to overwhelm the young empath.

“Fitz… Leo, Fury sent reassignment orders for you. I’m sorry. I’m meeting him in a couple of days to see if I can change his mind, but I’m not hopeful.” Barton said.

“They want me back at the Hub?” Fitz said, swaying a bit on his feet. Alexei pulled him down onto his lap.

“It seems Fury is assembling a new research unit. It's a mobile research unit, so you should be out of harms way, but still travelling a lot. Dr Simmons was requested as a member, and she wanted to you to go with her.”

“Simmons? I miss Simmons.” Leo said from where he was curled into Alexei shoulder. By now Alexei hand was rubbing up and down his back to comfort him.

“Of course you do, she’s your best friend.” Alexei said, barely more than a whisper.

Fitz was usually very even keeled, but when he let his guard down he opened himself up to the emotions of those around him. At times it was useful, helpful even. But at time like this it just compounded with his own negative emotions, making it hard for him to deal with it all. Barton had seen him so besieged with emotion that he had gotten a bad migraine, even throwing up. Fortunately it had never happened on a mission, though once, straight after they had rescued a large group of young kidnapped mutants he had collapsed from the exertion of holding other people’s emotions back while at the same time as providing them comfort by flooding them with positive emotions. It had taken days of some serious TLC to get him back in good shape, something the whole camp had contributed to. In fact Roscoe- the teddy bear John, a large burly man of little words who could absorb kinetic energy, had given him then- was still sitting on a shelf in the corner of the lab, and at times Fitz could be seen patting it when he needed the comfort.

“How long do we have?” Alexei asked.

“Two weeks.” Barton answered.

Alexei just nodded, and Barton took that as his cue to leave them be. 

As he closed the door behind him, he absently rubbed at the tattoo on his chest, knowing that even though their separation wouldn’t be anywhere near as finite as his own from his husband, it would be hard for them. It would be hard for the whole team to loose Fitz, he was a well respected and well loved member of the team. His brains and engineering having saved their lives many time, and he was good fun to be around, the very best and loyal of friends. 

 

 

Two weeks later

“You got everything hon?” Alexei asked as they finished packing up.

“Aye, I think so.” Leo responded as he came up next to his husband, sliding an arm around the slightly larger man’s waist, looking at the pile of bags.  
“Do I have to go?” Leo asked, with just a hint of a pout.

Alexei slivered his own arm around Leo, pulling him around so that they were chest to chest.

“Unfortunately yes.” He muttered before leaning down for a hearty kiss- a kiss that was interrupted by a polite knock on their open door.

“You lovebirds ready?” Dave asked from the door. Dave was telekinetic and was usually one of their point men on missions, especially when they needed things moved quickly and quietly, not to mention that one of the handy aspects of his telekinesis was that he could unlock any manual lock. Alexei, being a technopath, took care of any electronic locks.

To their credit they didn’t jump apart like guilty teenagers, rather they slowly stoped and then took a moment just standing together- foreheads leaning together- before they pulled apart.

Leo zipped up the last of the bags and between them they carried them out to the main common room, where everyone was gathered. 

There had been a large farewell party the night before, but everyone had gathered for one final good bye. 

With a round of hugs, slaps on shoulders and rowdy god-byes and see you laters, Fitz finding himself in the centre of the group that over the last months had become his family. 

Suddenly Barton stood in front of him. “It’s going to be hard to hide who, what, you are after living amongst your fellow mutants. No one else is supposed to know the level of training you have, officially you’re not cleared for combat, so let other’s do the fighting unless it becomes necessary. As far as any one knows, you’ve been sitting in a lab for the last three years and have no field experience, so you’ll have to remember what it was like in the early days in the field and act like that.” Barton said. Fitz knew that this was especially important considering who he would be working for, Barton had told him about Coulson's condition a couple of days ago.

Fitz nodded. “I can base off Simmons, she is always packed with nervous energy.” He stated, having thought about this already.

“Good. Call if you need any, or if you just wanna talk. Remember you’re still a Howling Commando, no matter where you are.” Barton said, to which there was a great cheer.

“Thank you. Uhh, this reminds me of the day I got packed up to boarding school.” Fitz said.

Everyone laughed at that. “And you had half the school in tears from the way you were broadcasting your emotions.” Barton reminded him, having been a teacher at his school then.

“I’ve learnt a lot of control since then.” Fitz stated.

“Yes you have.” Barton said, with obvious pride. He ten pulled the younger man in for a quick hug.

After that Dr Pippa Lewis grabbed him to give him a hug as well. “You be careful. Don’t let anybody push you around because of who they think you are, ok. Now I’ve given you all shots for everything under the sun, so you should be fine, wherever you go. I sent off your most recent medical reports, so they won’t need to pock and prod you once you get there. My number is on your emergency contact form, so they’ll call me if anything happens and Trickster (the team’s teleporter) will have me there in no time.” It could be hit and miss how mutants reacted to different medications, so it was best to have Pippa heal them when possible. Pippa said in a comforting voice, running one hand through his hair on one side of his face. 

Clint put a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. 

“Now I really feel like I’m leaving for boarding school.” Leo said, wiping a tear away- partly his own emotions and the ones he had picked up from Pippa from the brief contact.

“Be careful. Don’t do anything rash. Trust your instincts…if any…” Pippa started again, only to be interrupted by Fitz.

“Yes, Mum.” He said, which got another laugh at the group. Pippa tended to be motherly towards all the team, even the older ones. 

Barton interrupted before Pippa told Fitz off. “You ready?” 

Fitz nodded, then frowned. “Oh wait, no.” He took off quickly, running back towards the lab.

A moment later he came running back, the Night-Night Gun in one hand and Roscoe in the other. When he got to his bags he placed Roscoe in his backpack and picked up his bags. Alexei picked up the ones he couldn’t hold.

“Ok, now I am ready.” He stated, none of his nervousness showing in his voice or posture. 

Both Fitz’s moved over to stand in front of Trickster, whose normally loose long red hair was pulled back in a neat uniform regulation bun and her normal mischievous eyes were serious, even tearful. 

She grabbed each of their arms, and in the blink of an eye the three of them were standing in an empty corridor near the hanger. Without a word the three of them headed towards the hanger and the waiting Bus. Just before they turned into the hangar Alexei gave Leo on last kiss. 

They walked up the open cargo door, dropping Fitz’s things on the floor. Fitz carefully placed the Night- Night Gun on top of everything. 

He turned to say one final good bye. “Thanks, I…”

He was interrupted by an excited call.

“Fitz, you’re here. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it on time. Where have you been? Nobody at the lab had seen you for weeks, months! Why didn’t you tell me they had sent you to another lab. I mean I know I only just got back myself, but really Fitz, we’ve been talking on the phone daily since I went to the Virginia lab to work on the alien carcasses, (she missed his grimace at the mention of that- he had spent one day working close to them, and it was more than enough) you could have mentioned it at least. Oh, were on something new, something big, you’ll have to tell me all about it. Really Fitz! You should have told me, we tell each other everything (and yet, he thought, she didn’t know he was married). You forgot didn’t you, you thought you had told me, so you didn’t mention it!” Simmons said, her arms suddenly like tentacles that wrapped themselves around his torso, slapping his back as she said that last bit. 

Over her shoulder she saw Alexei and Trickster trying to contain laughter at the display, and he mouthed ‘save me’. Trickster nearly did outright laugh at that. Fitz firmly pulled her arms from around him. “Hello Simmons, nice to see you too.” He said a lot more sedately. “I told you about the Night-Night Gun.” He said, easily avoiding the rest of the long-winded question, and indeed it did distract her.

“The Night- Night Gun!” She said with a hint of derision. “You can’t get that thing to work. It’s hopeless, and don’t you go thinking you can get me to help you. We already have perfectly good tranquilizer guns, why do you need to reinvent a perfectly good thing?” She asked.

Behind her Alexei and Trickster waved and disappeared. Fitz sighed, as much from being apart from his husband as from Simmons. He suddenly felt rather overwhelmed and tired. “Eneuch blethering.” He said and stopped when he realised he had fallen back to Scots. “Let’s stat moving all this.”

They argued as they put things in the lab, it wasn’t long before they were disturbed by a loud thump. 

Turning to the door they saw that it was the sound of a duffle hitting the floor.

“FitzSimmons.” The tall man said, Fitz couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. 

“Fitz.” Simmons said, pointing to him.

“Simmons.” He said, pointing to her. And suddenly it was like they hadn’t spent nine months apart.


	8. And then things got a little weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Coulson's abduction. Fitz tries to deal with the built up emotions of the Bus, and the team join up with the Howling Commandos to Find Coulson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not long now till the happy ending, just a couple of chapters.

Twelve hours. That’s how long it had been since Coulson had been captured. Twelve hours and they were still clueless.

They were still gathered in the op room. Doing what they could to find Coulson.

Fitz was leaning on the centre console, the tiredness and weight of emotions starting to get to him. The room, hell the whole plane was thick with the despair, pain and fear of the whole team. There was no getting away from it. He was doing his best to not let it get to him- but it was so much and it matched what was inside of him, which made it so much harder.

He flinched as Skye brushed against him as she walked past, hitting him with a full blast of her emotions. He stood, intending to excuse himself for a while but realised that that was a bad idea.  
Suddenly he bolted out the door, heading straight to the toilet. He made it just in time. 

Once his insides had stoped trying to escape his body he just sat there, half glad that he had made it time and embarrassed that it had happened at all. He felt a cool hand on the back of his neck, thumb stroking gently, he was startled by the fact that the touch gave some measure of release from the onslaught of emotions, which could really be only one person on the Bus, and yes looking around he confirmed that it was May.

May gently moved him so that he was siting with his back to the wall, giving him some water to drink. She didn’t speak just let him calm down. Once she could see he that he had some semblance of control back she raised one eyebrow gently, as if to ask “you ok?” 

He nodded, then stilled as the movement let his headache make itself known. “I’m sorry. Just got to be too much.”

May nodded even though she didn’t know that he was a mutant, much less an empath, she didn’t think any less of him. At least Fitz figured that was approximately what the gently wave of understanding, compassion and comfort that he felt from her. Though she had tight control over her emotions he always got a small sense of what she was feeling, especially as she was still touching- it was always nice to be reminded that she wasn't a psychopath as some might think.

May helped him to his feet, supporting him as they walked to the common room. As they walked he muttered, “I wish we could get some help from the Howling Commandos- they’d have this sorted in no time.”  
May raised an eyebrow at that- as far as she knew the Howling Commandos had been disbanded after WWII. Either Fitz had joined the same fan clubs as Coulson, or knew something she didn’t. SHILED being SHIELD, it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility. 

She settled him on the sofa. 

Feeling a mass of worry, he turned his head, seeing the other three present members of the team hovering in the door. May rolled her eyes, Fitz would have if he head wasn’t giving him hell. 

“I’m fine.” He said, as evenly as he could manage. At their sceptical faces he added, “I’ll be fine, if I get some rest and we find Coulson- alive and well, which we will cause he is badass and we are awesome.” That got a bit of a laugh out of the huddle trio, and the barest hint of a smile from May. Still they were worried, so he told them as much of the truth as he could. “It’s just a migraine. I get them fairly often. Stress can bring it on.”  
“Ooh, that’s true. He got heaps of migraines at the academy. Though not so much any more…” Simmons said, stopping as she began to wonder why.

“Well if this isn’t stressful, I don’t know what is.” Skye offered. Skye accepted that with a nod.

“Could someone get my computer, and maybe a bucket?” He asked, Simmons and Skye both left to do that. Ward followed, to head to the op room to continue working. 

May stepped aside to take a call from Fury.

Fitz relished the sudden dampening of emotions as everyone gave him space. 

Simmons was the first back with his computer and a blanket. She placed the computer on the table, then with great flourish she placed the blanket over him. She moved the computer on to his stomach. He gave her a smile in thanks. 

At that point May stepped back in. “We’ll be in Arizona in 75 minutes.” She said, before walking to the cockpit to change the course.

Fitz couldn’t help the large smile and relieved sigh that escaped him.

“What’s in Arizona?” Simmons asked, just as Skye and Ward walked back in- Skye with the bucket. 

“A team that can find Coulson. Working together will more than halve the time it takes.” Fitz said with confidence.

He sat up gingerly, buoyed by the thought and got them back onto track with work.

He sent a quick email to Alexei, knowing that he could use that to get into the info they would need to help them find Coulson.

 

In seventy-six minutes they touched down on the airstrip attached to the Howling Commandos camp.

Fitz stumbled down the ramp just ahead of the others, to greet the waiting Barton. 

“Boss.” He said, trying not to sway where he stood. The team behind were all showing different degrees of shock. 

Barton responded. “Fitz. You want a hand?” He asked.

“Aye, that’d be good.” He said, and Barton reached out quickly as Fitz swayed again.

With his hand supporting Fitz’s bare arm he used the touch to create a mental link, taking some of the burden Fitz was carrying and creating a stronger mental shield for Fitz.

Fitz’s face cleared a bit as the pain lessened and he felt the shield help him. He stood taller and steadier on his feet than he had been all day.

“Agent May.” Barton said, to those still behind Fitz, getting a nod of greeting from her. “And these must be Agent Ward, Skye and Dr Simmons. Welcome to Hamilton Park Camp home of the Howling Commandos. I’m Agent Barton, unit chief.”

Ward greeted with “agent”, while the two girls both said “hi”.

Barton started walking back towards the centre of camp, Fitz by his side.

“Have you got anything yet sir?” Fitz asked.

“A few leads, nothing confirmed. This organisation is very good at hiding, and seem to have unlimited resources. He could be half way around by now.” Barton answered.

“So he’s definitely still alive?” Fitz asked.

“Yes.” Barton said. Fitz sighed his relief, he had known Barton wouldn’t have ben in any shape to greet them if the worse had happened, but it was good to get that definite reassurance. Barton elaborated. “Alive and in fairly good condition, considering. They seem to have kept him sedated for the most part, he’s had very few conscious moments.” 

Fitz nodded.

“You know that for sure?” Ward asked, vocalising the thought the three women had as well. 

 

“Yeah.” Was all Barton said.

They entered the main area of camp. More than half the team approached them to greet Fitz. Pippa got there first. 

“Leo. Tut, look at you.” She said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, hands holding his face. 

“Dr Lewis, It’s good to see you again. Thank you.” Fitz said, the last referring to the fact that she had healed him with the touch to his face. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh, as well as can be expected.” She answered. “I always worry so much about my brother, this last couple of years especially.” 

Fitz gave a hummed agreement. A few others pushed in to greet him.

Behind them Barton motioned for the others to move on. Ward started to move towards Fitz, intending to get him to come with them. 

Barton stopped him, saying. “He won’t be long. They know he’ll be eager to get to the op centre. He can take care of himself anyway.” 

Ward didn’t looked convinced but followed May’s lead and left Fitz behind as they followed Barton  
“Aren’t you an Avenger?” Simmons asked.

“That’s more of a part time thing.” Barton responded. At her surprised look he continued. “There are other threats that don’t require the Avengers, I am much more useful here than waiting for disaster to happen in New York.”

Simmons process that and found it to be logical. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“You didn’t really think Fury would keep Captain America, the Black Widow and Hawkeye laying idle did you?” Barton said.

“No, of course not. Well, maybe, a little. One perfectly assembled team ready to stop whatever comes.” She said, somewhat wistful.

Barton laughed. “I can see why Phil chose you. Smart as all get out yet so optimistic, cheerful.” Then he looked at May. “Does it drive you a little mad?”

She showed a slight grin that could never be categorised as a smile, but Barton knew was as close to one as he could expect from her- it did indeed drive her a little mad, to which Barton laughed. 

They stepped in the command centre. “Fitzy, what you got?” Barton called out.

“Nothing else since you asked five minutes ago sir.” Fitzy responded, tone a hint away from sarcasm.

“Fitzy these are Agents May and Ward, Dr Simmons and Skye. Coulson’s team.” Barton said. 

“Agent Alexei Fitz, but around here they call me Fitzy- to avoid confusion.” Fitzy greeted.

“Are you related to Fitz?” Simmons asked.

“Only by marriage.” He answered, then turned back to Barton. “Speaking of…?”

“Got waylaid by a mob.” Barton said. “And here it comes.” 

The doors opened to reveal Fitz coming, surrounded by an even bigger group than before. 

Once inside the door he stopped. Stopped moving, stopped speaking. Just stared.

“Lyovushka.” Fitzy said, smiling radiantly.

“Lyosha.” Was Fitz’s response, before he all but launched himself at Fitzy. As they kissed the Howling Commandos clapped and cheered.

Of the four, May’s chin was the only not to drop. Simmons saying, “Ohh…by marriage. Right.” Was almost lost in the noise.

Skye turned to her. “Huh?”

“They’re married…to each other. Though really, that doesn’t make sense, cause Fitz would have told me. I think. Well, if he could have, and he didn’t. So maybe he couldn’t.”

Barton whistled to get everyone’s attention. “We still have a mission to complete.” His men and women started filtering out, leaving only Barton, Fitzy and Coulson’s team.

The two pulled apart as Fitzy whirled around in excitement. “There. That’s it.”

Images and different files started popping up on the previous blank screens. 

Skye looked around, trying to figure out who was doing that. “How?” She asked.

Alexei smiled. “Technopath.” Was all he said. Concentrating on the info he had in front of him, sifting through it and pulling up the relevant information on the screens  
Barton clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, this is good.”

“Your do realise you don’t have to try and impress me any more?” Fitz added, though he did give the man a kiss on the cheek, proud and thankful. 

“Darlin’ if I was trying to impress you I’d have dug up specs for every weapon and gadget they have so you can figure how to make them all defunct.” Alexei said, not looking away from the screens.

“Ohh, you know me so well.” Another kiss. “Maybe later.” 

“Oh, I have other planes for later.” Alexei said, grinning.

Fitz grinned in return.

“Ow, ew.” Simmons muttered, which made Fitz blush.

“I don’t know…those two…” Skye put in. Fitz felt his face heat up, meaning he was beetroot red by now.

Barton shook his head at their antics and turned the conversation back to the new info. 

They worked on it for another twenty minutes before Barton called in some of the member of the team. The plan was for six of the Howling Commandos, including Barton and Alexei to go into the facility they had located, get the information off the unconnected computers. They knew Coulson wasn’t there, but all their combined intel point to the fact that this facility was something like an operations base, the intel they gathered there would get them closer to finding Coulson.

Get in, incapacitate any threats, get the info, and get out. One-hour tops. That was the plan. Of course it wasn’t that simple. These things never were. They had blueprints, satellite footage of the building and its surrounding area, personnel information, security information. They had a good plan, it should work, it will work, but something will go wrong. They could not plan for every possible variation, no matter how much Fitz tried. 

Not only was Fitz dealing with his own anxiety about Alexei going into the facility, the team going in’s ramped up energy and nerves, but his own team’s building confusion as their question were mostly answered with nothing more than “that won’t be a problem.” At least it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the pent up emotions he had to deal with in the last on the plane.

Fitz took a calming breath when Barton wrapped up the mission overview, and then leaned in for one more kiss, a light peck on the lips, with Alexei and murmured “be careful” before stepping well out of the way, motioning for the rest of his new team to do the same.

As the group of five formed a circle around Trickster, Barton touched each one of them- a touch to the shoulder, brush against an arm- to form what he called a ‘surface meld’ between the whole group: they would be aware of what everyone was seeing, hearing, they could guide each other trough the op, back each other up, all without comms. It would be dissolved after they were back. 

Once that was done, each of them placed a hand on Trickster, and with a wisp of movement they were gone.

May, Ward, Simmons and Skye each showed their shock in way- from May’s blink and you miss it shuffle back to Skye’s loud “what the hell?!!”

By the time Fitz had started laughing at them, Ward and Simmons were still blinking slowly, both each trying to process what happened. Really by now, you would think they would be used to the bizarre.

Fitz got control over himself, at least enough to talk. “We are all mutants, the Howling Commandos, that is.” 

“Mutants?” He heard three voices ask, May of course just raising an eyebrow. “What are mutants?” Skye asked.

“People born with a mutated gene that allows them to do things that most humans can’t, or more accurately, have attributes that Homo Sapiens do not have.” Fitz explained, he could immediately see Simmons mind whirling through the possibilities, which was probably why she hadn’t figured out that…

“Wait! You said we! ‘We are all mutants’, which means one, you are a mutant and two, you were a Howling Commando.” Skye exclaimed. 

Simmons stopped in her thought path, he could see it in the way her eyes trained on him. The eyes in question started tearing up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He rushed to her, putting an arm around her. “Ahh now, cheer up. You wouldn’t have believed me, would you? If I told you I’m a mutant. I couldn’t tell you about the Howling Commandos.” He said, and as he held her she stoped crying, even cheering up a bit- even to her own amazement.

“Now come on, I want to introduce you all to everyone.” He said, leading them out.


	9. A mission and a fight between friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barton leads a small group of his team to a facility to follow up a lead and back at camp Fitz has trouble settling down and ends up in a fight.

Elsewhere…

 

Barton poked his head up over the hill they had teleported to, if front of the facility they were about to infiltrate. He smiled as he read the sign not far from them. “No Trespassing Private Property” it read. He heard one of the others chuckle as they saw what he saw.

Fitzy caught his eyes and nodded- he was into the security system- the facility security wouldn’t know they were there, at least not electronically. Scanning the system he located a vacant room not far from where they need to get to- electronic swipe card entry to all part of the facility was working in their favour.

He showed the room on a screen to Trickster, who nodded; they all grabbed hold of her and suddenly found themselves inside the room.

Fitzy made his way to the door control panel, while the rest of them made two lines beside him. With a simple touch to the controls the door opened at his mental command. Barton and John “Bennie” Bennet, whose kinetic absorption ability made him impervious to bullet wounds and the like, led the way out of the room- weapons at the ready. They gave the all clear, Trickster and Samah “Sammi” Atiyeh- metamorphosis- followed, with David “Levo” Goffe- telekentic- and Fitzy last. 

The group made their way down the corridor, turning and going through one door then the next, all without a problem. 

Two more turns, almost being caught once- Barton and Bennie took the men out quietly and hid the unconscious men’s bodies- and they got to the door they wanted. Around the corner from that door they stopped, taking up defensive positions as Barton decided on the best plan of action.

The door had not only electronic locking but it’s own guard. 

“Fitzy, I don’t suppose either of those people we stunned before have access to this section?” Barton asked quietly.

“No, sir.” He answered as he scanned through the database for the names they had from the ID badges they had picked off staffers. “Low level scientists. Four of the eleven people who do have access are in there or not on shift. Guards have access; they do an internal check at shift change, which is in twenty minutes.” 

Barton nodded eyeing the exposed rafters, the way they were positioned he wouldn’t get a shot at the guard before he triggered the alarm. “Trick?” He questioned, having shown them all his plan through the mental link.

She nodded. She reached out to Fitzy for the ID cards. She chose one, a young woman with wavy blond hair and pert lips. She transformed into the young woman- Claire the name badge said- clothes and all. 

She handed her main weapon to Levo beside her, leaving her only with her sidearm and knives. Standing up she adopted a casual stance, her walk emulated that of Claire’s.

She walked around the corner, the guard looked up from his computer when her clicking heels came t stop in front of him.

She smile at him and he smiled in return. “Hi.” She said, leaning on the counter. With him suitably distracted, she pulled her sidearm- a Night- Night Gun- above the table without him noticing, shooting him quickly before he could even say “hi” in return. 

“Pig.” She stated as she turned back into herself, the others falling into place around her and Levo giving him back her weapon.  
Fitzy opened the door.

Inside the three people sitting at desks were shot unconscious before the team was all through the door. The fourth was found in a side section and shot, but not before they could raise they could raise the alarm.

“Levo.” Barton said, the man in question nodded and moved the large piece of furniture in front of the door telekinetically.

Fitzy moved to the last door in the section and with a sigh called out “mechanical lock.”

Levo ran over to the door and in seconds had the door unlocked, with a satisfied smile and a flick of his wrist the door opened by itself.

Fitzy stepped inside and up to the mainframe where the information they wanted was stored. The others took up defensive positions around the suite of rooms.

Closing his eyes Fitzy placed his hands on the computer, getting into the information quickly and sorting through it. Dipping one hand into a pocket he pulled out a portable hard drive, plugging it in he used his ability to quickly duplicate all the information into the hard drive in such a way that the people whom this information would never know what they had pulled out. 

They heard noises of the door trying to be infiltrated. 

Disconnecting the hard drive he smiled as he left a few presents for the enemy group to find. 

“Ready.” He called.

They all gathered together again, surrounding Trickster they placed a hand each on her arms and breathed in relief as they reappeared in their own camp. 

 

Meanwhile…

 

Fitz walked into the main common room with the rest of his team, where the rest of the Howling Commandos were currently gathered.

The HC’s quietened as the smaller group neared them. Fitz plonked down onto one of the vacant couch seats, indicating for the others to do the same.

“Ok, guys, this is Pippa-Jemma if you want to know more about mutants, ask her. Next to her are Matilda, then Fabien, Bailey, Aaron, Marcos, Louisa and Halvard.” Fitz said, pointing to each in turn, each person nodded or waved as their name was said. “Howling Commandos- these are May, Ward, Simmons, Skye.” 

With the introductions done they all started talking, in smaller groups, after awhile groups started drifting off to different places. Simmons and Pippa started talking about the mutant gene, they wandered off to the medical bay to delve deeper into the subject. Fabien, Bailey, Aaron, Marcos, Ward and Skye went to play snooker. 

That left Matilda, Louisa and Halvard talking with Fitz and May. It didn’t take long for Fitz to start getting fidgety. As he talked and caught up with his former team members one of his legs started bouncing on the spot, the others tried to ignore it, Louisa at one point lay a hand on his knee to still it. The emotions he picked up from her from the touch helped for a while, but his own anxiety got the better of him. 

“Would you like to spar?” Matilda asked.  
“Oh Aye!” Fitz exclaimed. May raised an eyebrow at this, she had never seen Fitz spar, or so eager to do something outside of the lab. 

Matildas and Halvard both laughed at his eagerness. Unlike May, they knew that he quite enjoyed sparing that it helped his calm down. It was hard for him to hold back when sparing with non-mutants, so he rarely did it. 

“Go get changed then.” Louisa said, smiling at him.

Fitz jumped up, but then hesitated and turned to May. She rolled her eyes at him and motioned for him to go.

As he ran out the door Louisa asked. “You’ve never seen him spar, then?” 

“No.” May said simply. 

The others smiled. “You’re in for a treat then.” Halvard said.

They soon went out to the training field, where Fitz met them now dressed in the black combat uniform of the Howling Commandos. As he walked back past the common room he didn’t notice Skye tap Ward on the arm and point out at him. Aaron led them out to the training.

Fitz and Matilda were warming up as the others got there, with only Pippa and Simmons missing. 

“So rules?” Matilda questioned.

Fitz shrugged. “Regular. No maiming, no killing, other than that, nothing’s out of bounds. We’re done when someone taps out or calls time.”

She grinned at that, Fitz grinned back. Around them people were taking bets- first to draw blood, who would win, how long they would last, all sorts of things. 

Picking up staffs they stepped into the circle, facing off.

“It’s good to have you back.” Matilda said, giving her staff a bit of a swirl.

“It’s good to be back.” Fitz answered as he adjusted his grip.

They stepped towards each other. Both fought well, evenly matched in skill and strength, they put on a good show for their audience. It was almost a minute until one of them managed to connect a strike, with Matilda thrusting her staff into the left side of Fitz’s ribs. With a grunt he used the opening to strike her in the collarbone from above. She used the closeness to get a leg between his and trip him, but he rolled with it and was quickly back at his feet. 

He quickly spun back around to face her, not quite quickly enough as she came at him halfway through the move. He parried her blow then followed up with a strike of his own. They continued until Maddie got in a jab to the side of his face, followed up by another to the inside of one of his knees. He lost his balance a fell but in doing so slammed his staff into her belly, forcing her back. 

He twirled his staff as he stood, huge grin slightly disconcerting due to the blood dripping down from his lip, reddened skin on his cheek showing where a bruise was going to form.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ward step forward, obviously thinking to intervene. He was stopped by a member of Fitz’s old crew, who mumbled, “anything goes”.

The two faced off, now a little worse for wear. Fitz lunged at Maddie while she was still getting her breath back. She was slow to react, going on the defensive a lot more than she would like. A sudden strike to her hand and twist under her staff had her releasing it. It fell to the ground, where Fitz kicked it up and into his own hands. 

He stepped back, the two staffs held at each side. He felt the tug of her telekinetically pulling them out of hi hands. One flew out of the ring, the other into her hands. She twirled it a couple of times, but before she could move towards him she fell to her knees with a howl of pain. 

Dropping the staff she scowled at Fitz. “I forgot how strong that is.” Ashe said, referring to the emotion he had imbued into the staff, which in turn had been absorbed by her. It was a neat trick he had picked up a few years ago, for some reason wood and water could be used as a medium like this.

He smiled again and then came at her while she got to her feet. They fought hand to hand. They were evenly matched, having trained together even before they were in the Howling Commandos together.   
Outside the ring the group watched still, some cheering, others offering advice, new bets were laid. All this went unheard by the two who only had eyes and ears for each other. 

May watched quietly, surprised by her teammate’s skill, he had never given any indication that he had this kind of training or ability. He could match herself or Ward fairly well. Speaking off, she had to fight hard to contain a smirk at the man’s dropped jaw. If he managed to pick his mouth off the ground for long enough, he obviously had some questions for Fitz. 

“Shouldn’t some one stop them?” Simmons asked, having arrived with Pippa not long after the fight started. 

Pippa answered. “No, their fine. Sessions like this are used to test skill and endurance. Not to mention work out tension. Fitz obviously need the distraction, and with all that built up emotion and tension he’s been carrying the fight will do him good.”

“Good?!” Simmons exclaimed. “He’ll barely be able to walk, look at him!”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed, my dear.” Pippa responded. With that she settled back to watch the continuing fight.

Fitz had one advantage that he now used effectively; with every touch he was sending different emotions into her, nervousness, fear, sadness- anything to shake her confidence and make her mess up.

She stood back from him, trying to make her hands stop shaking. She took a deep breath, thinking things that gave her that confidence back. She focused on her anger at what he had done, how he had made her feel. She projected it out, making sure he felt it.

He smiled at that, with a touch of both pride and smugness showing. With a twitch of her wrist a knife from someone’s sheath.

Fitz ducked out of its path as it flew towards them. The handle landed in her hand gently. She adjusted her position as she waited for Fitz to make a move. 

Fitz crouched down and drew his own knife from its sheath hidden in his boot, flicking it open as he stood up. The five-inch blade may not seem like much, but in the hands of a well-trained fighter, like the person now holding it, it could be deadly.

The two drew in closer, circling each other, watching and waiting. Fitz ignored the sweat coming down his brow, blinking it out of his vision. He was bruised and battered. His knee hurt, bruised ribs made it hard to breath, his face stung. Maddie wasn’t any better off, but that wasn’t much consolation.

With a surge of annoyance and defiance, partly his own and partly being thrown off by Maddie, Fitz surged forward. She blocked his strike, and he only just managed to move out of the path of her knife in time.   
Their movements now were quicker and closer to the body, trying to get in a strike without leaving themselves open. 

Thirty seconds of this, though it seemed a lifetime to the fighters, before Fitz got it a strike, it was only a glancing blow, but it drew blood. Maddie didn’t even blink before moving to strike him, he blocked it but then didn’t quite block her follow through, earning himself a cut to the arm to match the one on Maddie’s side.

Still they continued, block, strike, block, strike, over and over.

In another section of the field the team that had been away reappeared, though only a couple of people took any notice.

Barton rolled his eyes as he saw the two bruised and bleeding sparing partners, and let out a loud whistle. The two in the ring immediately stopped, with everyone else they turned towards the sound. Seeing Barton and the others they relaxed and put down their weapons.

Alexei trotted over to his husband to help him as he hobbled out of the ring and to a bench, Halvard doing the same for Matilda.

“Have fun?” Alexei asked as he wiped sweat and blood off of Fitz’s face. 

Fitz attempted a smile. “Aye, I did. I’ve missed this.” Alexei chuckled and gently kissed the sweaty brow. “You?” Fitz asked.

Alexei shrugged. “It was fine, not quite as eventful as your afternoon.” He said.  
Fitz gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief at this and leaned on Alexei as Pippa come over to where the Matilda and Fitz both sat, bruised, bloodied and exhausted.  
“Tut, look at you two. Incorrigible, the lot of you, fighting till you drop. Really. I won’t always be there to fix you up.” She complained, as she placed a hand first on Matilda and then Fitz. She kept murmuring as she healed them. 

Fitz sat up a bit straighter as his body was healed, stretching his jaw out as the pain in it disappeared. It always surprised him quickly Pippa’s healings were. He looked up as he heard a gasp from both Simmons and exclamations from Skye. It was hard not laugh at Ward’s impression of a carnival clown figurine- the ones where you had to throw a ball in its mouth. Like everything, May seemed to take this all in stride.

“There, good as new.” Pippa said as she stood back.

“Good. Fitz, go clean up then report to the control room in fifteen minutes.” Barton ordered.

Fitz nodded, stifling a yawn, Pippa may have healed the cuts and bruises but the exhaustion was still there, not to mention the blood from his many cuts.

As he stood Alexei stood as well. “Sir?” He questioned of Barton.

Barton shook his head in amusement and said, “Go, fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, sir.” Alexei responded with a nod and then walked with Fitz back to the lab, where their quarters were situated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, coming up...they find Coulson, and some bridges are mended (aka the happy ending).
> 
> Hope you have enjoyed it so far, thanks for the comments and kudos.


	10. A little intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick look at those fifteen minutes it took for Leo and Fitzy to clean up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry abou the long wait guys, had a small patch of writers block, not to mention RL got in the way a little.

Entering their quarters Alexei pushed his chatterbox husband onto the bed and crouched down to unlace his boots, Fitz kept up the animated one sided conversation unperturbed that his partner didn’t seem to be listening. Boots and socks off Alexei stood up and pulled the other up with him and gently pushed him towards the bathroom with an amused smile and a quick peck to the lips, which momentarily stoped the flow of words.

He could hear the man still talking through the open door as he pulled off his own uniform jacket, giving a huff of amusement that his husband could talk so much all the time- he had missed it sorely, the rooms were so quiet without him. They phoned each other as often as possible, but it wasn’t the same. If nothing else he didn’t get the same wash of emotions with the conversations that he got with Leo so close- it had taken some getting used to when they first met, but now he loved the way he always knew his husband was close by because of it, and the absolute knowledge of how his husband was feeling. Leo always held that back with others, especially non-mutants, but he had asked Leo to always be open with him, in every way. Consequently, alongside his own feelings of tiredness, worry and amusement he could feel his partner’s excitement (at being back together, and with the HC’s), worry (for Coulson) and anger (at the people responsible for Coulson’s abduction).

As he opened the dresser to pull out a fresh t-shirt for himself he heard his name called out. Looking up he saw Leo standing in the doorway to the bathroom now clad in only underwear- the muscles usually hidden by layers of clothing now on show as he moved an arm to run a hand through his hair.

“Huh?” Alexei asked, certain he missed the question as he ran his eyes over the body in front of him.

Smirking, Leo repeated. “Are you joining me?”

“Um, I..” Alexei attempted, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “No. We only have…” He looked at his watch. “Ten minutes.”

“Pity.” Leo said, before turning around to go into the bathroom.

Any thought Alexei had dissipated at the view before him, he heard a laugh as the door between them closed- Leo knew exactly how he felt about that view. 

He let out a slow breathe and set those thoughts aside as he replaced his own top and then pulled fresh clothes out for Leo.

Having done that he lay down on the bed, eyes closed. With the portable hard drive in one hand, camp tablet computer in the other, he focused on the information he had pulled from the facility’s computer. He deftly sifted through it; decrypting the files at lightning speed he left the ones that weren’t relevant fall to the back ground, drawing into his mind’s eye the ones that linked to their case. As he did so he used his own computer to push the files to the control centre so that the others already there would be able to see what he saw. 

Eight minutes later, though it felt like mere seconds to him, he felt a gentle touch to his neck. He blinked his eyes open, readjusting himself to his surroundings. A fully dressed Fitz was now standing beside him, dressed in the fresh uniform he had laid out for him, jacket showing the Howling Commandos insignia on his arm. 

Slowly Alexei sat up, leaning his head back when Leo bent down for a quick kiss. Using that touch to ground him in the here and now rather than the cyber world he breathed slowly and stood up before giving Leo another kiss. 

The jacket he had discarded earlier was handed back to him, identifying marks back in their places. It matched Leo's except in size and his had 'A. Fitz' had on the chest, where as Leo's 'L. Fitz'. He pulled it on and then grabbed Leo’s hand as he opened the door. 

Alexei continued pouring through the masses of information they had gathered even as they walked to the command centre- important documents appeared on different screens in front of the those assembled in the control room, ready for them to look over, a condensed version of all the pertinent information was compiled and added to one dossier on the main screen as they watched. Beside him Fitz still talked, though he knew full well that Alexei wasn't paying attention to his muttering- which was fine, as he wouldn't understand the Science that was Leo's primary language at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come within the next few hours- I am on a roll!


	11. The daring rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find Coulson!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The happy ending (almost one more chapter to go, but it all gets better from here)

Skye couldn’t seem to get past the thought of ‘pretty’ as she watched things flick around the state of the art system, moving faster than was humanly possible. 

Around her, Barton and the others discussed various things that appeared- locations, personnel, tech, and so forth. 

About ten hours into the process Alexei said “shit.” With this he blacked out everything except the latest document he had brought up. This moved onto the biggest screen in front everyone.

On this were four pictures: Darcy Lewis, Dr Pippa Lewis, Hayden and Hunter Barric. The words “possible relations to Phillip Coulson, further investigation required.” 

Several Howling Commandos in the room (including Fitz) had similar reactions to Fitzy. 

“Trickster!” Barton called out to his agent. 

She nodded. “Got it, boss.” She said, reaching out to him.

He grabbed her hand momentarily, forming a surface bond, saying. “They know you’re coming.” 

She nodded again, and as soon as his hand was no longer in contact with hers she teleported.

Seconds later she reappeared, hand on each of the boy’s shoulders. They ran to Barton with a cry of “dad”, Barton engulfed them in a hug. The three talked quietly between them, reassuring and comforting each other at the same time as the boys asked their father a million questions, only some of which he could actually answer. As this happened Trickster disappeared again, only to return with Darcy Lewis. 

“Uncle C, this had better be important cause we was in the middle of a really cool…” She looked up at the screens. “Ok, so, that’s important. Where’s mum?”

“I’m here, honey.” Pippa said as she entered the room, having run up from the medical lab as soon as Barton let her know what was going on, a very confused Simmons hot on her heels. 

Pippa grabbed Darcy as tightly as she could. “Mum, I’m fine, mum…mum, I can’t breath. Mum, really, I’m fine, you can let go now.” 

She sighed a grand sigh of relief as her mother let go of her, though not before peppering kisses on her face. Darcy adjusted her glasses back onto her nose, doing her best to ignore the chortles and laughs from the gathered Commandos. 

“You all realise she wouldn’t be much better if it was any of you, right?” She said, shutting them up pretty promptly. 

With the two parents sufficiently reassured that their kids were indeed fine, the three were sent off to the common room with a few of commandos who currently didn’t have anything to do, Pippa going with them before going back to the medical bay. 

 

It took them another fourteen hours, but they did it- they found Coulson. Well, they were fairly sure they had.

With only a small bit of grumbling, Simmons and Skye stayed behind with boys and the two Lewis’s- Halvard and Bailey were left behind to guard them. That might not seem like much, but seeing as Halvard could form force fields and Bailey could manipulate the elements, they were in good hands- as well as being expert fighters like all the Howling Commandos, even Pippa and all three of the kids were trained in self defense. 

It only took the team going half an hour to get packed up and loaded onto the HC’s plane, and headed to the middle of Africa (Trickster couldn’t teleport such a big group over such a long distance). Once the plane was up in the air, Alexei piloting from where he sat next to Fitz in the plane’s meeting room, they got stuck into the plan of attack.  
The Howling Commandos, and co, were divided into three groups, the point group led by Hawkeye, along with Matilda, Samah, Marcos, and Louisa; the second group was led by John, Fabian, Aaron, Ward and May were with him; lastly Alexei led the third group, which consisted of himself, Leo, Dave and Trickster. 

Group one and two would enter via the main entryways, creating diversions as they went. Group three would enter via the side door, less guarded, and make their way to the science labs, which is where they thought Coulson was, with the diversions created by group one and two hopefully leaving the way open for them.

After what felt like an excessively long flight, they landed an hour’s flight away from their final destination, for security reasons, under a false ID using one of the many corporate identities the Howling Commandos used for such occasions. Once back on solid ground they assembled into groups and were transported to the three access points they would use for entry, within walking distance of the facility Coulson was being held in. 

The large complex was well guarded, making things difficult for the team. It wasn’t long until they encountered problems, and stealth had to be abandoned in favour of force. They each used their skills and abilities to their group’s advantage, the fourteen of them easily doing the work of a hundred, and made it looked easy. 

Fitzy’s group reached the lab in the centre of the facility after looking through others as they went and finding nothing. Alexei had discovered that this one was drawing a lot more power, so they had made a beeline for it. 

“Bullseye” Fitz muttered when he saw the way the room was still heavily guarded, even though guards had been dispatched to the various sections the building to combat the other HC groups. 

The twelve guards started shooting at them as soon as they saw them. Dave stopped the bullets in their tracks, turning them to either hit the walls around them or being forced back into the direction they came from. Those that weren’t killed by their own bullets suddenly felt themselves overwhelmed by strong foreign emotions, many either collapsing from the strength of it or found that their heads were now pounding and their hands shook so much they couldn’t keep hold of their guns, that soon stopped as many they were shot. Trickster teleported in behind the last few took them out before they knew she was there. 

The whole thing took no more than thirty seconds. That taken care of, they entered the room and cleared it before making their way to the large bank of computers, behind which a tub of some sort could be seen. 

Alexei, Dave and Trickster set up guard, as there were still some personel out there who could cause them trouble. Fitz went over to the large bank of computers and lab equipment. 

One glance at the tub showed that yes, Coulson was here. He was floating in the tub, hooked up to the equipment- one nasty looking cord seemed be piercing his head in that soft bit right at the top of the spine- he was an engineer, not a doctor- speaking of which, they could use one of those here.

The other two groups filtered into the lab, first the one led by John, soon followed by the point group led by Clint. Once they were all there Fitzy, Samah having replaced him as guard, joined Fitz a swearing at the computers.

“Fitz?” Barton asked from where he now stood at the side of the tub, trying not to let his fear show in his tone.

Fitz looked up from the computers with a sigh. “I could use Pippa and Simmons.” He said, before pointing out something to Fitzy, leaning on him both physically and emotionally as Barton’s emotions washed over him unchecked. 

Barton looked over at Trickster. “Can you get them here?”

She nodded. “It will take a few minutes, I’ll need to take in jumps.” 

He nodded back, giving her the go, and she teleported out of there.

“Fitz can you give me a status report?” Barton asked.

“Physically he is fine, stable. They seem to have developed a way to directly access the suppressed memories. Simmons can tell you…this” he said, indicating between Coulson and the machines “is her area, not mine.”   
“Suppressed memories?” Ward asked.

Fitz looked to Barton, and getting the ok, answered the question.

“You know that during the New York incident, Coulson was injured?” Fitz asked, though he knew they all did.

Ward nodded.

“Well, his wound was, well should have been, fatal. Stabbed straight through the heart!” Fitz said, miming the action. “Bloody big blade, any one else, well… except Pippa… or Darcy, Hunter or Hayden, would have been dead! Done for! Gone!” Fitz exclaimed, just on the wrong side of excited.

“So how is he alive?” Ward asked.

“Exactly!” Fitz stated, and highlighted his point by tapping the table with his finger.

Fitz sighed, raising his eyebrows, waiting for Fitz to elaborate, which he did.

“They don’t know! But they want to know. And he knows, but he doesn’t know he knows. Once they figured out they he doesn’t know that he knows they decided to get it out of him anyway, so…” Fitz tapered off, again waving around to indicate all of the equipment. 

“Ok. But why do they want to know?” Ward continued. 

Fitz shrugged. “Because they’re evil megalomaniacs?” He posed.

Ward considered this and nodded once, satisfied with the answer.

“So why hasn’t SHIElD tried to find out?” Ward inquired.

“Agent Ward, are you suggesting that SHIELD is headed by evil megalomaniacs?” Alexei asked in return, to which there were a few chuckles.

“Not evil, but possibly megalomaniacs.” Barton said quietly, and then continued. “SHIELD, or at least Director Fury, already knows how Coulson survived. It’s not written in any file, and only a select few know. Coulson is a mutant, and like his twin sister he can heal himself. She can heal others as well, but he can’t.”

May raised an eyebrow at this, as well at making the connection between Coulson and Pippa.

“Ok” Ward said. “Agent Coulson is a mutant who can heal his own wounds.” He said drawing in a deep breath. “But he doesn’t know that he is a mutant, who can heal himself?”

“No, not currently.” Barton answered. 

“Not currently? So he did know?” Ward continued, and got nods from both Barton and Fitz.

“Why doesn’t he know that he is a mutant?”

“He suppressed it!” Fitz answered, pointing towards Ward, bringing it all back to the original question. 

“Why?” Ward

Again Barton responded. “Because the Tessaract, the alien object that was powering the sceptre that he was stabbed with, was trying to invade his mind, so he blocked off the most important, things to him, sealed it into a section of his mind that he can not access. Doing so left him in a coma for months, and after he woke up the false memories he had created about his personal life were the ones that he retained.”

“So SHIELD knows that there are suppressed memories. Did we know there could be a way to get them back?” 

Fitz nodded. “There was always the possibility, but not without irreparable damage, it would most likely completely destroy his mind. These people don’t care wether he lives or dies”

“Uhh.” Was all Ward said to that, now understanding why the possibility wasn’t entertained.

It was just then that Trickster appeared with Simmons and Pippa. Pippa ran over to the tub, leaping into it she stood next to Phil, with a hand on each side of jaw.

Simmons took a bit longer to readjust, but then ran over to Fitz at the computer bank.

Between the two women they figured out how to safety detach Coulson from the probes, and proceeded to do so.

With that done Dave lifted him up onto a table so that Pippa could continue healing him.

She worked alongside his own healing to get him back to a state that they could move him.

It wasn’t long until Coulson blink a couple of times, whispering “Clint?” 

“I’m here, Phil.” Barton said, grabbing his hand. At that Pippa sighed in relief, for the first time since this all started believing that Phil might actually heal properly. 

Phil’s head turned slowly. “Pip? What’s wrong?” He said, barely audible. 

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. You rest now.” She said with a smile.

The eyes of the man on the table fluttered closed as he did just that. 

“Pippa, is he safe to move now?” Barton asked.

She nodded.

“Fitzy, get everyone else out of here and back to the plane. Trickster, you alright to get us back to the plane?” 

Fitzy nodded. Trickster walked over to Barton with a nod. She grabbed Coulson’s lag, while Barton and Pippa both grabbed her arm, the four of them disappeared together.


	12. The start of a new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil recovers from his ordeal...what does he remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said one more chapter to go, but the end had to broken down into smaller chunks.

They flew back to Arizona, Pippa keeping Coulson asleep for the entire flight, so that he could heal physically without being troubled mentally, but once they were settled back at camp, and in the medical bay, she had to let him wake up, and quickly wished she hadn’t.

Phil seemed to be stuck in a nightmare. He thrashed and screamed, having to be held down and restrained most of the time.

That brief moment of cognisance during his rescue had opened the floodgates.

The next four days were the worst Clint Barton had ever experienced- and there had been some terrible ones- and until they rescued Phil, the day Phil had died had been the worst.

Every memory was returning, his mind resorting itself, and Clint experienced every horrifying and painful second of it with his husband, almost as if it was happening to him as well.

Honestly, Clint didn’t think either of them would have survived if they were in this alone, but fortunately they weren’t.

Clint did his best to try and help Phil mentally, helping him gain some stability; Pippa and Darcy kept both Phil and Clint physically in good shape- both through their healing powers and medical intervention when necessary; Fitz helped Phil even out emotionally, so that the emotional stress of the process wouldn’t kill him.

The rest of the Commandos and agents took care of the running of the camp, looked after the two boys and made sure Clint, Pippa, Darcy, and Fitz all ate and slept and were in good enough shape to help Phil without killing themselves.

It did start to bet better, Phil started sleeping peacefully and the others were able to get some proper rest.

It was as Clint got the first three hours of uninterrupted sleep he had been able to get in nearly a week, in one of the other medical bay beds, that Phil started waking up. In typical TV fashion he blinked slowly a few times, brow creasing in confusion as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Seeing his seemingly peacefully sleeping husband, who didn’t sleep in strange environments, put his mind somewhat at ease.

He heard noise from in front of the bed and looked around with a surprisingly (to him) stiff neck that popped in a few places as he turned his head. Groaning at the pain he looked up at the young man that approached the bed holding a cup of water with a straw in it. Recognising whom it was, he became even more confused.

“Did something happen in R&D?” He asked in a raspy voice.

Fitz blinked at him and then huffed out a laugh, handing the cup out for Coulson to take a few sips. “No sir. Sir, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Phil was so focused on Fitz that he didn’t notice Clint open his eyes.

“I think that’s above you pay grade, Doctor.” Coulson said with his typical raised eyebrow.

Fitz’s smile widened, sending out a pulse of amusement with it. “I’m level seven now, sir.” [AN: I know in the show he is Level 5, but I thought it fit better for him to be Level 7, what with being a Howling Commando]

Coulson’s eyebrow rose higher at that.

Clint sat up, drawing Phil’s attention. “Go ahead, we’re secure here.”

“We were stationed in New Mexico, things went haywire, Director Fury was on his way, and I was standing on the roof waiting for his helicopter to land.”

“Huh, that’s the last thing you remember?” Fitz asked, to which Coulson nodded before he sipped on more water.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it, not even any highly confidential information. Weird though …” Fitz said, stopping as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Seeing Barton’s understandable want to be alone with Coulson, he handed Barton the cup and excused himself; his own bed and sleeping husband were calling to him.

“Clint? What’s going on?” Phil asked once they were alone, gingerly sitting up. Again he was surprised how sore and stiff he felt. “And where are we?”

“We are in Hamilton Park Camp’s medical bay.” Phil raised his eyebrows in question at that, but Clint moved on. “Phil, is waiting for Nick really the last thing you remember?” At Phil’s nod he grimaced. “Then this is going to be a long story. This might seem strange, but what do you remember about your family?” Clint asked, trying to be as vague as possible, in case there were some residual effects of supressing his memories.

Understandably Phil looked at Clint like he had lost his mind. “My parents, who had the bright idea to call their twins Philip and Philippa, died years ago. Pippa lost her husband a couple of years after we met, leaving her to raise her daughter Darcy alone. And she did a great job of it, raising a little spitfire who never backs down from a fight, though I think Pip blames us for that.” Phil said with a smile, making Clint smile back at him, bother at the line and in relief. “Best of all, I actually got over myself and asked out the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and he agreed to go out with me, and then marry me. And through the somewhat clichéd ‘undercover marriage leads to surrogacy’ we have two wonderful sons who make our dangerous jobs absolutely worth doing.” With that Phil brought his now steadier arms up to cup Clint’s face. “Will you now please tell me what’s going on, and why we are at a training camp SHIELD shut down over a decade ago, yet seems to be in perfect working order?”

Clint smiled and leaned down to kiss him, his own hands cupping the back of Phil’s’ head. It was a gentle kiss, filled with Clint’s happiness, relief and reassurance.

Sighing Clint started talking. “What you remember in New Mexico, with the Tesseract going haywire was the start of a large scale attack on Earth, by an alien called Loki. During the attack on the base in New Mexico I was compromised. You managed to escape the destruction of the base. You and Fury assembled the Avengers…” Clint’s smile widened as Phil’s wide-eyed astonishment at that. Huffing a laugh, he started again. “Soon after that you fought in defence of the helicarrier…” He took a deep breath, comforted by Phil instinctively rubbing his thumbs across the back of his neck where his hands were laying. “Phil, you were killed, stabbed in the chest with an alien weapon.” He guided one of Phil’s hands to the already diminishing scabbing on his chest, to show him the wound.

Phil couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath he took as he felt the large wound on his chest.

“Clint, how long ago was that?” He asked, bring his hands back up to lie on Clint’s neck.

“Over a year and a half ago.” Clint answered sadly.

“What?” Was all that Phil was able to manage, hands gripping Clint’s neck almost painfully.

“The alien weapon was used to take over people’s minds, and when you were stabbed it tried to do the same, and in fighting against it you fell into a coma.” Clint said, barely above a whisper.

“For over a year an a half?” Phil asked, shock but also sadness in his voice as he wondered what that must have been like for the man now standing in front of him.

“Not quite, fourteen months. But because you sealed away all your most precious memories to protect them, when you woke up you didn’t remember anything about your family except that your parents died.”

“And since then?” Phil asked.

“You couldn’t remember, forcing you to remember could have been, and was, too risky. It nearly killed you. Fury assigned you a top secret team, the fact that you survived kept top secret.”

“How long?” Phil needed to know.

“Six months.” Clint said.

“Twenty months.” Phil whispered. Clint nodded. “I’ve missed two anniversaries!” Phil exclaimed, realising the first would have been a couple of months after he fell into a coma, the second not long after he woke up.

Clint huffed a laugh at this. It was something he had tried not to think about.

“I’m sorry.” Phil said, leaning up to kiss his obviously long-suffering husband.

“Not your fault.” Clint said, giving another kiss.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you next year.” Phil answered.

“You’re making it up for it now.” Clint said, not really caring how sappy or corny it sounded.

“Sap.” Phil joked.

“I think I’ve earned it.” Clint responded.

“I think you have.” Phil said. They were quiet for a moment, before Phil huffed and said. “Pippa’s not going to let me forget that, is she?” Phil asked, with a groan.

“No, she is not!” Came a voice from the door, and the two turned to see the woman herself standing in the doorway. Her words contrasted her pleased smile as she walked towards them.

Clint stepped back to give Pippa some room to check on Phil. She grabbed the hands that had dropped back to the bed, holding them in her own as she closed her eyes for a second. She concentrated on checking him physically, and for the first time since the attack on the helicarrier she was happy with what she felt in him.

He used that to pull her into a hug, disconnecting their hands so that he could put his arms around her. Her chin fell onto his shoulder as her arms wrapped themselves around his back, clinging to him in a way they hadn’t since their parents had died during their teens.

“Pippa, I’m sorry.” He whispered into her ear.

At that she broke down crying, she whispered back. “It’s ok, it’s not your fault.”

Phil shuffled back at bit and settled his twin sister on the bed with him, holding her close as she cried into his shoulder. Standing next to them, Clint smiled at them and said. “I’ll be back soon.”

Phil looked up at Clint, torn between not wanting the other to leave, and wanting time alone with his twin sister. Clint smiled and at the same time heard a gentle whisper in his mind “ _I’m always with you._ ”

Phil was surprised by an almost overwhelming feeling that he had finally gotten back something that had been missing, something that made him feel whole, even though to him, it was just hours ago that he had felt his husband’s presence in his mind like a feathering touch or bridge to somewhere else.

He let out a sigh at the feeling. “ _I feel like I’ve missed you, but haven’t known that I’ve missed you, yet at the same time I know that we had lunch together just hours ago._ ” He said psychically to Clint, who was walking towards the door.

Clint shrugged, turning around to look back at the two on the bed. “ _It’ll take some time to get used to._ ” He answered, also psychically.

Phil raised an eyebrow at that, to which Clint smiled again, feeling Phil’s confusion and frustration. Phil turned his attention back to his sister, who was telling him he had missed over the last twenty months.

Clint walked out the door, heading to the common room to check on his people.

There he found everyone except the two Fitz’s and the kids lounging around chatting. As he walked in Skye jumped up, all but running towards him.

“Is he ok?” She asked.

He nodded. “Yes, he’s awake and seems to been fine.” Walking further into the room he guided her over to the couches, where they both sat down, everyone one else coming over closer to hear.

“I feel a but coming.” Skye responded.

“He doesn’t remember anything since the start of the Tessaract incident.”

“Oh.” She said, visibly deflating. “So he doesn’t remember the Bus, or, or, or…”She trailed off, not able to get the words out.

“No, I’m sorry.” He responded.

She blinked away tears, nodding. “Why?”

Barton sighed, something that seemed to be happening a lot today. “His mind couldn’t handle it all. There was too much disconnect. We knew how dangerous it was to him to remember what he had lost… something had to give.”

“System reboot, back to the factory setting.” She mumbled. Then looked up, slightly shocked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

He cut her off with a shake of his head. “It’s ok. And in a way you’re right.” He said with a smile.

“Now, any problems I need to know about?” He said, looking around the group at large.

From there conversation moved on, hearing all the news from the last few days. After awhile people started to move away, either to do jobs or go back to what they were doing before.

Once done catching up with everything he headed back to the medical bay.

Pippa and Phil were now sitting on the bed with food trays on one of those wheeled tables kept in the medical bay for such purposes.

 

Phil laughed at something Pippa said, taking another spoonful of his pudding before he looked up at Clint.

“So the world didn’t fall apart while you were taking care of me?” He said playfully.

Clint nearly outright laughed, even though it wasn’t particularly funny. “No, my team are too good to let that happen.” He said, trying to keep a straight face.

Phil’s eyebrows rose at that. “Are they?”

“Yes we are, aren’t we Pippa?” He said, with a smile to Pippa.

To which she responded. “Oh yes, the very best. But then I am biased.” She said with a smile.

“Oh?” Phil asked, directing his questions more at Clint. “And what team is this? You never did say why a facility that is supposed to be covered in layers of dust seems to have had a face lift.”

“The team is called the Howling Commando’s.” Clint said with a large grin at Phil’s fanboy look at the name. “On paper- what little there is- we are a hand picked team chosen for our expertise and training.”

“And in reality?” Phil asked.

“Mutants who have the abilities and training to go up against forces other teams can’t.” Clint said.

Phil was impressed with that, Nick had seemed intrigued by the idea, and had apparently put it into action. “And the camp?”

“As you know it is right on the border between Arizona and California. Which meant it was conveniently close to a certain high security clinic that caters for chronic and terminally ill patients, which was the home of a certain Phil Barric for thirteen months and a Dr Pippa Peterson worked at- coincidentally at the same time. Both the clinic and the camp are close to Madam Tempestua’s School.”

“Very convenient for you.” Phil said, with a smile.

“Oh yes. Especially since six months after I- Dr Peterson that is- started work at this clinic, I dropped back my hours from full time to two days a week.” Pippa added.

“I take it the Howling Commandos were set up at that time, and needed a medical officer.”

“Nothing wrong with your mind at all.” Pippa teased.

Phil sighed deeply. “Except that I can’t remember anything from after I was attacked.”


	13. Home is where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil spends so time with the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the extremely long wait. As we all know, life gets in the way sometimes.

Phil, clad in hospital scrubs, was lead by Clint out of the medical bay. They headed to Clint’s private quarters.   
Phil couldn’t help but smile as the first thing he saw as he entered was the weapons rack in the left side wall of the entry way, Clint’s bow and quiver in pride of place where they could be grabbed easily and surrounded by guns and knives of various sizes. Stepping beyond that, they entered the quarters.

It was in fact a large suite of rooms, looking more like a home than accommodation. Which wasn’t what Phil was expecting. He was expecting a smallish bedroom, en-suite bathroom and maybe a kitchenette.

Instead he saw a double height ceiling, the exposed steel beams and columns gave away the original use as a warehouse or hangar. The concrete walls had been painted warm colours to make cosy and more like a home.

It contained a well-appointed and large kitchen, family dinning area and warm lounge room that had most of their things from home. The back wall consisted entirely of deep bookshelves, with ladders giving access to higher sections. The higher sections contained more memorabilia than books, things collected or made by all four members of the family. A TV had been mounted in one of the shelves. 

The space took up the left side of the old hangar and was separated from the right by a wall.  
In the middle length of the long open layout, on the inside wall, was a staircase to what appeared to be Clint’s study and supposedly his bedroom. The second story was behind the back wall of the lounge and hung over the back right side of the hangar. 

The study itself was more of a large balcony that hung over what Phil had been told was the command centre. The glass panels in the top section on the wall that separated the living quarters and the work area would allow Clint a clear view of both areas from on top. 

The most surprising aspect of the room, to Phil at least, was the twins. The two boys, teenagers actually, stood up from where they were on the lounge as their fathers came in. 

They stood there unmoving, more uncertain than Phil had ever seen them, ever wanted to see them. It took him a moment to realise that they were uncertain about him; that for the last few months they had had a father who didn’t remember he was a father and before that he had been in a coma for over a year. 

His vision blurred as he blinked back tears at the thought, overcome with love and sorrow that he had put them through that.   
“Hunter. Hayden.” escaped from his mouth without him even realising it.   
He strode towards them, pulling them both into a fierce hug. He leaned down and kissed them both on the top of their heads as they clung to him. He realised that he didn’t have to lean down as far. 

“You’ve grown so much!” he muttered with a laugh as he pulled back a bit. He felt the gentle whisper of their twin minds connect with his and almost laughed in relief and wonder. This too had been missing.

“I missed you both so much" he said, still trying to hold back tears. He pulled both back to him again. It was Hayden who pulled back a bit; though not letting go; his face full of his confusion, as was his mind.  
Phil shrugged, as much as he could while still holding the fourteen year olds. “I just have this feeling that something that was wrong is right again. I’m back with you, all of you.” He said, saying the last as he looked over at Clint. 

Clint smiled from where he was standing a bit further away to give them some time to reconnect. 

Both boys pulled away from Phil, relaxing a bit now. 

“You’ll never guess what happened while you were away!” they said together, something they always said when they saw their parents after a long op.

Phil responded with their standard “you're right, I bet I can’t.” With that the four of them fell into their normal routine of catching up on all of the boys' stories. They sat and talked and laughed, and for a while it was like nothing had ever happened to Phil. 

Before they knew it, it was getting late and Clint could tell Phil was getting tired, though trying hard to hide it. He was fairly tired himself, so said they should call it a night and head to bed. The boys were soon leading Phil to the end of the lounge area and stood in front of the bookcase, Clint following closely behind them.

Hunter showed him a hidden touch pad built into the side panel of a bookcase, into which he entered a code. Suddenly the bookcase panel in front of them swung open, revealing a large room behind it. This too was double height.

To the left of where the family stood there was a sofa and a TV, with a gaming system attached. To their right Phil could see a bathroom through the open door. Straight in front of them there was a mezzanine floor, with a staircase in the middle leading up to where two beds set up in the back corners, wardrobe area in the middle to create some separation. The two corners were decorated to each boy's preference and Phil could tell from where he was standing which area belonged to each boy. Underneath that there was a large study space set up. As Phil looked around, listening to his boys tell him about the room, he tried to suppress his yawns but the twins rolled their eyes in unison and gave both their fathers hugs before saying good night and shoving them back out the door. 

Clint huffed out a laugh and turned to Phil whose face was showing a combination of adoration, amusement and affront at being told what to do by his own children. Through their bond Clint, and the boys, could tell that though all that was present he mostly felt overwhelming love and a sense of being home. 

As that feeling flooded over four of them Clint led Phil up the stairs to his, their, own room. They walked through the study, and a quick glance down showed a good sized command room below, through the bedroom. Phil looked around at the familiar furniture in the room and thought back to the furniture he had seen down stairs and in the boys' room. Frowning he said, "a lot of this is from the house". 

Clint sighed as he turned to face him. "When you went into the coma and I moved out to the school I left most of our stuff at the house, though t took some of your favourite collectors items to your room at the clinic," he shrugged when he felt a wave of love and affection coming from Phil, "I didn't want you waking up in a soulless room, and making it your room made it easier...less empty." Clint sighed again and shook his head and sent a wave of love through the link in response to Phil's wave of guilt, and started talking again. "Then when I moved here, I initially had a smaller room, with general issued furniture. But then when you wake up, and couldn't remember... I packed up a lot of your collectables and suits, so that they could be sent to you. I couldn't stand to be there any more, but I didn't want to get rid of it, because...well I still had the boys, but... that house, we had bought it together and selling it felt like loosing you again, and it was the only home Hayden and Hunter had known," he let his shoulders droop a bit at the defeat he had felt at the time, "the boys convinced me to sell it. We were remodelling this place" he said, sweeping his arm around to indicate the warehouse, "and I decided to build in a place for us, for me and the boys', a home that didn't feel like I was giving up on you" he finished, swallowing down his hurt and guilt.

Phil closed the distance between them, pushing into Clint's space and drawing him close as he kissed him desperately. Clint kissed back just as desperately, hands clasping at the back of each other's heads as their bodies pressed together. The kiss changed to a more needy desperation and both sets of hands made their way down each other's body to the hems if their tops. 

They pulled apart with matching laughs as they felt twin waves of relief, amusement and small amount repulsion (because no one wants to know their parents are going at it) before their links with the twins was closed.

As their lips touched again they moved a fraction slower, the desperation somewhat abated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm sure you would like me to write what happens next, but I'll will leave that to your very capable imaginations.
> 
> Next chapter will be the morning after, with Phil interacting with members of both teams. Will he remember? Or won't he?


End file.
